


Something Quite Peculiar

by somethingquitepeculiar



Series: Something Quite Peculiar [1]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Banter, Character Development, Death, Drama, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, General fiction, Guilt, Humor, Literature, Love, Mortality, Multi, Murder, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other, Peter Pan References, Sarcasm, Sisters, Story within a Story, Suicide, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:14:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 64
Words: 341,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1681223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingquitepeculiar/pseuds/somethingquitepeculiar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Muses are more than mythology.</p><p>It is stories, legends, fairy tales and books that keep children believing in the Guardians, keeps their spirits alive in their hearts. But all books start with a blank page. All stories start with a spark, a hunch, an idea.</p><p>Inspiration.</p><p>With the ability to inspire at will, to manipulate thoughts and dreams of great and impossible things, the nine Muses are exceptionally important and exceptionally powerful. And this power does not go unnoticed.</p><p>When the Muses are threatened by a dark entity hoping to harness their power, they must call upon the Guardians and their centuries-old alliance. Together they must learn more about this threat, and what can be done to stop it and keep the Guardians and Muses strong and alive.</p><p>Meanwhile, Jack Frost, a Guardian of a few short months, is still up to his old tricks while trying to adjust to new responsibilities. Along the way he finds a new friend who could use some fun among the chaos that is about to erupt in her life. A life that was so meticulously planned out is turned upside down as fantasy becomes reality and imagination is no longer a safe place to escape to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reminiscing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking a look at my Rise of the Guardians story! I hope you enjoy your time here.
> 
> Some things to keep in mind: I have not had a chance to read or obtain the _Guardians of Childhood_ book series, so this will be largely based on the film, rather than the books. I have done some research on character backstories and such from the books but I'm not promising 100% accuracy.
> 
> There also seems to be some dispute about Jack having been 17 or 18 when he became Jack Frost. For the purpose of my story, I'm going with 18.
> 
>  
> 
> _Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or the Guardians of Childhood series or the associated trademark characters and storylines. I do not own, nor am I associated with DreamWorks Animation or William Joyce._

_"How was the drive?"  
"Terrible! Snow everywhere, you’d think someone was doing it on purpose."_

* * *

**Chapter One: Reminiscing**

* * *

The cabin could barely be called a cabin. It was more of a hut: a building in the loosest sense of the word. It had four walls and a roof, a door, a window, and a chimney that looked as though it were ready to fall over. Truthfully, it appeared that a strong gust of wind could knock down the shack, with signs surrounding which read, “Condemned” and “No Trespassing.”

The small structure was concealed behind several large trees, and was incredibly easy to miss, nestled within the forest that rarely anyone ventured into.

It was always snowing around this cabin, regardless of the season.

Inside was exceedingly less interesting than outside, if at all possible. There was only one room, which contained a mattress and pillow in the corner, a fireplace that appeared to have not been used in decades, and a few shelves on one of the walls.

The shelves proved to be at least _somewhat_ intriguing, containing items such as a matryoshka doll, a handful of what appeared to be grenades disguised as Easter eggs, a tiny but elaborately designed box containing a single wisdom tooth, and a small, golden, velvet bag. Various crayon drawings were pinned up near the shelves with care, all depicting children partaking in various winter games.

A boy with pasty skin and white hair climbed inside through the window, already open. With a yawn, he propped the staff in his hand against the wall and stretched before lying back on the mattress, eyes fixed to the still-open window. He briefly wondered if he should close it.

“Why? So I won’t catch my death?” he said to himself with a small laugh as a cold gust of air entered the cabin, shuffling he drawings on the wall just slightly. 

Jack Frost was still getting used to this whole “house” thing.

He didn’t want one, he had done fairly well for himself just lurking around for the past three hundred years. The closest thing he had to a home was the lake at Burgess, which was only a short walk – or fly, depending on his mood- away from the cabin.

He saw no reason to have one; it was the others that insisted. Jack glanced at the knick-knacks on his shelves as he thought of the others. North had given him the matryoshka doll made in Jack’s image to welcome him as a Guardian, and so that the boy may never forget his “center.”

The egg grenades? Well, don’t tell Bunnymund about those, Jack might have stolen them when he wasn’t looking. They were finally kind-of, sort-of on friendly terms and it probably wasn’t a great idea to let the rabbit know that Jack had stolen his egg bombs simply because they were cool.

The small, but very intricately decorated box was from Toothiana. Jack had returned his baby teeth to her after retrieving his memories from his old life, feeling that she would take better care of them than he would. She soon returned the one wisdom tooth (the only one Jack had, as the other three hadn’t grown in by the time he had his accident; he now remembered it being knocked out while roughhousing with some other boys) in the box, and told him to save it, in case he needed the wisdom later.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he would use the tooth any time soon, not unless he had to engage in a battle of wits with someone who wasn’t Bunnymund. Still, the gesture was nice, and Jack kept the tooth with his other possessions. 

The velvet bag was full of dream sand, and was given to him by Sandy. Jack couldn’t entirely make out what he had been trying to say with the rapid, sandy silhouettes appearing over his head, but what he gathered was that there was very little in the bag, and that he was to use it wisely. After the entire fiasco with Pitch Black a few months back, Sandy seemed to think it was necessary that each of the other guardians had a small stash of dream sand in case of emergencies.

It was difficult to go through what had happened with Pitch and not come out of it closer, and that’s precisely what had happened with Jack and the other Guardians. They were something of an odd family now, and Jack was still getting used to that, much like the house.

Ugh, the house. He liked having a place to keep his things, and he was starting to like the mattress (no bed, boogeymen hid under beds), but he was still getting used to having a legitimate place to stay. The others thought it was necessary that he had a home base. Tooth had her palace, North had his workshop, Bunny had his Warren, and Sandy had his island. What did Jack have?

Well, now he had this cabin, which was regarded as “a start” by the others, and was then met with a roll of the eyes from Jack.

He had no dreams or toys to create, no eggs to paint, no teeth and currency to store, he saw no reason for an elaborate home base. Especially considering the destruction that came to the other bases when Pitch was gaining power. If a villain of some kind laid claim to Jack’s house, they’d be laying claim to a doll, some small explosives, a tooth, some sand, and some drawings.

He somehow doubted that would be much use to anyone plotting world domination or something similar.

Though, he’d be very disappointed to lose those things, particularly the drawings.

The drawings were from various children, a thought that still made Jack grin. They could see him! They believed in him! And not only that, but they loved him, enough to draw him pictures of the fun they had in the snow he brought. A good handful of the drawings were from Jamie Bennett, his first believer. 

He hadn’t seen Jamie since the events that had taken place around Easter, as Spring had finally hit Burgess after that. The drawings from Jamie had all been left near the edge of the lake where Jamie hoped Jack would find them. A few had even been sent in the mail to North, along with drawings for the other guardians, with notes asking that they be given to the proper recipients.

Jack had received all of them, and had carefully pinned each of them to the wall. He loved those drawings. Having confirmation that Jamie hadn’t forgotten him was nice, too. Just how long it had been since he had seen the child began to dawn on Jack and he sat up, reaching for his staff.

He would just have to fix that, wouldn’t he?

"Hey wind!" Jack called, climbing out of his cabin, using the window once more. Doors were for pedestrians. "Let's go visit Jamie!"

The wind picked up in response and caught Jack as he leapt forward, letting out a laugh. The strong gusts whipped about his hair and the soft fabric of his jacket. Three hundred years and flying hadn't lost its excitement in the least.

Still cackling, Jack artfully waved his staff as he passed the lake, thickening the ice and frosting nearby trees. Several other trees, windows, sidewalks, and unsuspecting pedestrians fell victim to Jack's games as he passed, bringing frost and cold gusts of wind as he went.

A few children pointed, eyes wide. He heard a few exclamations of, _"Mommy, it's Jack Frost!"_ always followed by a, _"That's nice, honey."_ He grinned at the kids in question and waved, acknowledging that he was who they thought he was.

Seven months and being believed in hadn't lost its excitement in the least.

Jack quickly approached the Bennett residence and began to wonder if Jamie would even be home. Hovering near the boy's window, he found that he was. Jamie was lying on his stomach on the floor, propped up on his elbows, with his copy of _Mysterious Times_ open in front of him. He must be reading it for what was probably the thirteenth time.

Quietly opening the window, Jack entered the room and waved his hand about, sending several very large snowflakes straight into Jamie's face. The dark-haired boy was confused for a moment, sitting up and looking around briefly before his face broke out into a grin. He'd lost two other teeth since Jack had seen him last, and the tooth that he had a hand in knocking had been replaced by a pearly white adult tooth.

"Jack!" Jamie cheered before scrambling to his feet and rushing forward to hug the eternally young man.

"Jamie!" Jack laughed, hugging the child back.

“Did you get my drawings?” Jamie asked hopefully.

“Yep, I have all of them back at, uh… well, I have a home base now. They’re all up on the wall there,” Jack said.

"Awesome! I haven't seen you since Easter, I thought you weren't gonna come back," Jamie said, letting go of Jack at last, practically bouncing on his heels in excitement.

"I had to bring winter to some other places," Jack explained. "And I promised Bunny I'd let you guys have spring finally after the whole thing with Pitch. But it's November now, so I'll be around."

"Cool! I can't wait to go sledding, I have some plans drawn up, you gotta see them!" Jamie said, rushing over to a stack of drawings near a pile of colored pencils. Nice, quality colored pencils, too. He pulled out a drawing of what appeared to be an intricate iced path for sledding purposes and handed it to Jack, who let out a whistle at the sight of it.

"This is intense," he said, examining the drawing as he sat atop Jamie's dresser, his staff resting in his lap. There were several jumps, sharp turns and dips. And Jack thought the sledding route _he_ had created for Jamie had been elaborate.

"Think you could do it?" Jamie asked.

Jack smirked, "It might take a little while, and I might have to steal some of North's elves to test drive it so I don't knock any _more_ teeth out... but I think I can manage."

"Awesome! Wait until I tell the guys, this is gonna be great."

The pair was interrupted by a car honking outside as it pulled into the driveway. Jamie walked over to the window to see who had arrived and Jack hovered away from the dresser to do the same.

A green jeep with a few dents in the bumper sat running in the driveway before the driver killed the engine and opened the door, sliding out. It was a thin girl that appeared to be in her late teens, perhaps early twenties. Jack raised a brow, wondering who she was, as the girl adjusted her knit hat. Her hair was a peculiar shade of burgundy (it couldn’t be natural), and her eyes were large and brown.

"Rowan's here!" Jamie grinned.

"Who's Rowan?" Jack asked.

"My cousin, she's staying with us for Thanksgiving," Jamie explained.

Thanksgiving. Right, that was coming up. Jack often forgot about that holiday, since it didn’t have a personification running around to remind him. He briefly wondered what the personification of Thanksgiving would be, a giant turkey? There technically weren’t even turkeys at the first Thanksgiving. Maybe a pilgrim?

Jack himself had never celebrated the holiday but had eavesdropped on the event numerous times in the past few centuries. Big feasts, parades, going around the table and being put on the spot about what you were thankful for.

And of course, extended family.

"Rowan!" came the voice of Jamie's mother from the front yard, as she approached the girl and pulled her into her arms.

"Hey, Aunt Lorelei, how are things?" Rowan asked. Her voice was on the deeper side for a girl.

"They're fine, but I expected you two hours ago, how was the drive?"

"Terrible! Snow everywhere, you'd think someone was doing it on purpose," Rowan groaned at the memory. Jamie turned his attention to Jack, giving him a questioning look. Jack smiled sheepishly, recalling how he had spent the earlier part of his day on one of the highways.

"Oops?" the white-haired boy offered with an innocent smile.

"At least you got here in one piece," Lorelei fussed, releasing her niece from her grasp before the two made their way to the house. Jamie turned from the window and began rushing for the door, but stopped short. He looked back at Jack, then to his bedroom door a few times, conflict clear on his face.

“Go see your cousin,” Jack laughed. “I’ll be around all winter.”

Jamie rushed over and hugged Jack one last time before heading back to his door again. “See you later, Jack!”

“I’m taking your drawing, okay?” Jack said.

“That’s fine!” Jamie replied as he turned the knob and rushed through. Jack smiled, glad to see that Jamie was still full of wonder, hopes, dreams, and all those other marvelous things that were so precious and worth the guardians protecting.

Standing at Jamie’s windowsill, Jack carefully rolled up the drawing and placed it in the pocket of his jacket. He was about to fly off and find a place he could construct the sledding course when he heard the Bennett’s greyhound barking.

Curiosity got the better of Jack and he couldn't help making a detour by the Bennett's living room window to peek inside. He found Rowan kneeling on the floor as Abby, the greyhound in question, jumped on her and licked her face. Rowan fussed over the dog in return. "Abby, Abby, Abby! Who's a good doggy? You're a good doggy, aren't you Abby?"

“Not if you ask Bunnymund,” Jack muttered with a small chuckle.

"Rowan!" Jamie called as he reached the bottom of the staircase and sprinted toward his cousin. He nearly knocked the girl over when approaching her for a hug. The girl groaned slightly at impact but quickly recovered.

"Hi Jamie! How have you been?” Abby began to whine as Rowan’s attention was taken away. The girl turned to the dog and rolled her eyes. “Oh, calm down, Abby, I stopped petting you for two seconds!"

"I've been good, what about you?" Jamie asked as Abby rolled over on the floor, presenting her belly to be rubbed by Rowan, who obliged.

"I've been doing lots and _lots_ of homework. Finals next week," Rowan said with a small sigh. "So I've mostly been tired."

"Sophie, say hello to Rowan," Lorelei said to the little blond girl, currently preoccupied by puppets on the television screen. She slowly turned her head from the screen to Rowan, seemed to recognize her, and jumped to her feet.

"Rowan, Rowan!" Sophie called, crashing into the girl.

"Why is everyone trying to knock me over today? First the weather, now you guys," Rowan said, hugging the little girl in return. Jack winced slightly.

“Okay so maybe icing the middle lane suddenly was out of line,” he mumbled, glancing from the window to Rowan’s car and trying to place it among the vehicles he’d harassed earlier. 

"I heard you cut your own hair again, Sophie," Rowan said as the child released her from grasp.

"It's pretty!" Sophie declared, shaking her choppy blonde hair about.

"Oh it's quite nice. I cut my own hair too, it's more economical that way," Rowan said with a small smile. Lorelei shook her head, laughing a bit.

"I'm going to take her to fix it next week, the hairdresser took the week off," the woman said, adjusting her glasses as she spoke.

"I can do it, it's just a matter of evening some things out," Rowan said, pushing Sophie's bangs out of her face.

“Well you certainly can’t make it worse,” her aunt said. “Maybe tomorrow, after you’re settled.”

“Sounds good to me, I just want to take a nap right now,” Rowan confessed. “I seriously almost got into like, three wrecks on the way over here, most stressful drive to date… but don’t tell my mom that.”

“She’d never let you leave ever again,” Lorelei said, wincing. Jack wasn’t sure if she was wincing at the thought of Rowan’s mother or the thought of Rowan almost wrecking three times. 

He’d like to point out that she had _almost_ wrecked. Despite the state of her car’s bumper, she had not actually succeeded in plowing into someone or getting plowed into today. And now that he’d placed the car in his memory? It was really more like _six_ times, and at least four of those had not been _his_ fault.

She hadn’t been a great driver.

“How is my sister, anyway?” Lorelei asked.

“Oh, the usual. I wish Dad would’ve gotten more time off so they could’ve made the trip down,” Rowan said, back to scratching behind Abby’s ear.

“I do too, but it’s not really worth the drive if he only has Thursday off.”

“Nah. But hey, at least I have you guys.”

“Rowan!” Jamie said, clearly bored by this grown-up talk.

“Jamie!” Rowan responded with the same enthusiasm.

“Come look at my drawings, I have loads of new ones since you were here last time, and I’ve been using those pencils you got me, and-”

“Okay, okay, take a second to breathe, kid,” Rowan laughed before pulling herself to her feet. “Let’s go see your drawings, then.”

As Jamie lead Rowan up the stairs, Jack turned from the window and hovered over to Rowan’s car lightly tapping the windshield with his staff and frosting it over before the wind picked up. After being satisfied that what he’d done would serve as a significant inconvenience and therefore a fair prank for the girl, Jack flew off back toward the woods near the lake.

He had some construction to do.


	2. Early Drafts

_When he heard jingle bells and a familiar laugh, he knew he was in the right place._

* * *

 

**Chapter Two: Early Drafts**

* * *

It was getting late into the night when Rowan found herself at the Bennett's kitchen table, her laptop open in front of her as she typed away madly, the word processor barely keeping up with her pace. She was alone, everything was entirely silent, save for the clicking of the keys and the occasional crunching as she reached into the nearby bowl of popcorn and shoved a handful into her mouth, always wiping the excess grease off on her pajama pants before going straight back to typing.

"Still up, Rowan?"

The girl jumped in surprise and coughed on a kernel as the voice of her aunt broke the silence. Removing her hands from the keyboard, she covered her mouth as she continued coughing. The older woman pat Rowan on the back and soon enough she returned to normal breathing.

"I didn't mean to scare you!" Lorelei said, pushing choppy bangs out of her niece's face.

"Next time produce some noise while you're walking, holy shit, Aunt," Rowan said, reaching for her glass of water and slowly taking a drink.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," the woman laughed slightly. "I thought you would've been asleep by now, you were saying you were so tired."

"I _am_ tired," Rowan said with a sigh, "But I had an idea for a story, so I had to get it down while I remembered it. And then I had an, apparently deadly, craving for popcorn and helped myself to the box you had."

"Another story idea? Have you ever finished any of these stories?"

"Yes... just not _most_ of them," Rowan confessed, scrolling through folders upon folders filled with files upon files of stories, notes and ideas. "I just have more ideas than I have time."

"What's this one about?"

"It's a concept for a series of children's books about a vampire family and how they try to partake in everyday activities with their own little twists, ultimately embracing their unique way of life and making friends along the way," Rowan said, saving her document and closing her laptop.

"That sounds fun. Vampires are popular right now," Lorelei commented, helping herself to some of the popcorn in the bowl.

Rowan rolled her eyes at the thought of the vampires currently running wild in popular culture, "Pansy vampires are popular right now, I want these ones to be a bit more traditional."

"Sleeping in coffins and all that? Jamie thinks one of the teachers at his school is a vampire."

"Really? I'll have to ask him about that later."

"Speaking of Jamie..." the older woman said, seeming to hesitate slightly.

"What's up?" Rowan asked.

"I really hate to ask, but I got called in to work Black Friday, which means I need to go in to the store Thursday night. I tried getting out of it but I'm one of the store managers, so, I _have_ to go. I really need someone to watch Jamie and Sophie."

"That's fine, Aunt, I'm gonna be here anyway," Rowan said with a slight shrug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, this is going to help me out so much," Lorelei said, seeming to have a weight lifted from her shoulders upon Rowan's agreement.

"It's no problem, they'll be full of turkey and probably exhausted anyway."

"I just wasn't sure if you had plans to go meet up with Danny or not, his family's only a half hour or so out of Burgess aren't they?"

Rowan groaned at the mention of the name, taking a moment to stuff a rather large handful of popcorn into her mouth in order to avoid making a comment for a little while longer.

"Oh no, trouble?" Lorelei asked.

"We broke up last month, I thought mom would have told you since she can't keep a secret," Rowan mumbled.

"No! What happened?" Lorelei seemed honestly surprised at the news.

The young girl sighed, avoided eye contact with her aunt as she continued, "I kind of, sort of, wrote him what might be the greatest breakup letter since the Declaration of Independence. In my humble opinion."

"Oh, Rowan, you did it through a letter?"

"If I tried saying it to his face he was going to get all 'Oh, but Rowan, it's not that way, you know I'm not like that' and try to talk me out of it. Plus I'm better with words when they're written down, anyway."

"What did he do to necessitate this letter?"

"He kept making comments about what I'm doing being a 'hobby.' Yeah, I'm definitely going into debt to get a BFA in Children's Book Illustration and Creative Writing so I can pursue it as a _hobby,"_ Rowan said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She picked at a sticker on the back of her computer and continued, "Like, he very clearly didn't think there was any way I could make money off of it, and kept making plans for our future that involved him supporting me, and I'm kind of wondering when exactly we agreed to get married because I certainly had no intentions of becoming his house wife."

"Did you tell him that?"

"Yes, and then he offered to try to get me a receptionist position at his dad's law firm. You know, since I got that receptionist job for work study. And I didn't even really know how to respond to that because when did he get the impression that I wanted to be a receptionist for the rest of my life? He seemed to think we would do fine with him doing his journalism thing, even though his writing was _shit_ until I started proof reading for him. He didn't start doing well in his major until after he started hanging out with me."

"Sounds like he didn't have as much faith in you as he did in himself," Lorelei commented, giving Rowan a sympathetic look.

"Auntie, he didn't believe in me at all," Rowan said with a frown. "He didn't believe I could do any of it and make a living off of it. And you know? Maybe I can't. Maybe I _will_ end up as a receptionist to pay the bills while harassing publishing houses with dummy books and ideas. But I have to do this. I _have_ to, I don't know what I'll do without my stories, and I can't be with someone who doesn't believe in them."

"It sounds like you did the right thing," Lorelei said, reaching over and rubbing Rowan's shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting way.

"Yeah... besides, marriage? I'm nineteen! I get terrified committing to classes for a semester," Rowan said with a small laugh.

"You've got _plenty_ of time for that."

"Definitely. I mean, it was fun when he wasn't being a jerk about everything. He was really nice the first couple months... and I do wish it would have worked out but I just couldn't deal with him anymore," Rowan said, sadness clear in her eyes.

"Well, he's missing out," Lorelei said, standing up and kissing the top of Rowan's head. "You're an amazing young lady and any boy would be lucky to be with you."

"You have to say that, you're my aunt," Rowan said, though she couldn't help but smile at the gesture anyway.

"It's still true, Ro," the woman replied with a smile. "Try to go to bed soon."

“I will.”

* * *

Jamie stumbled slightly as he followed the trail leading into the small woods around the lake. He had left his home a good ten minutes before, after his mother insisted he eat a waffle and shoved his hat on his head. Sophie had already eaten and was playing with one of Jamie’s old action figures at the table. Just as Jamie was about to leave, Rowan had finally rolled off the couch where she had been sleeping and mumbled a “good morning” before pouring at least half the sugar dish into her coffee mug.

After promising his mother that he wouldn’t be gone too long, he found himself on this uneven trail, clearly not used very often. The word “trail” had been left in the frost on his window that morning, though the longer he walked the more he began to wonder if there wasn’t another trail he was supposed to take.

When he heard jingle bells and a familiar laugh, he knew he was in the right place.

Jamie approached a clearing, a small valley that he had never been to before, finding numerous ice paths, still unfinished. The paths mimicked the drawing he’d given to Jack before. Three elves sat on a makeshift sleigh, cascading down one of the incomplete ramps before flying straight into a snow bank. They stumbled out of the snow dizzily, huge grins on their faces.

“I told you guys, that part’s not done yet,” Jack laughed, pointing his staff at the ramp and carefully adding another section.

“This is so cool!” Jamie said, his eyes wide as he took in all the parts that were already finished.

“Hey, you got my message!” Jack said, pleased to see the boy. He turned back to watch the elves set up to go down the unfinished ramp again, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not done yet but I thought you’d like to see what I have so far.”

“When do you think it’ll be done?” Jamie asked eagerly, wincing slightly as the elves crashed again.

“Probably later tonight,” Jack said, carefully aiming the staff and adding yet another angled block of ice. “I promised North I’d give him back the elves by tomorrow, these guys are on reindeer duty.”

The elves in question briefly stopped their ascent back up the hill at this statement and seemed to pout at the idea of taking care of the reindeer.

“What do they do on reindeer duty?” Jamie asked, smiling at their obvious discomfort at the idea.

“Groom them, clean the stables, shoe them,” Jack explained. “I think they’ve been taking them out to fly so they’re ready for Christmas, too.”

The elves now seemed rather depressed at the idea, one looking especially sad when Jack mentioned the “cleaning the stables” aspect of the job. Jack smiled down at them, before kneeling down and scooping some snow from the ground. He lightly blew onto the snow, watching as it sparkled before throwing the snowball at the elf standing in the center of the other two. The snow bounced off him and hit the others. Their eyes glistened with the magic, and they grinned before taking their sleigh and sliding down the (still unfinished) path yet again.

“Santa must be pretty busy now, huh?” Jamie asked.

“Yeah, but he’s got a really efficient system going,” Jack said, recalling all the yetis he’d seen adding finishing touches to existing toys, wrapping completed toys, and even beginning last minute designs when he went to retrieve the elves. “Sent him your letter yet?”

“Last week,” Jamie said proudly.

“Good, he likes when kids get them in early,” Jack said.

“Do you hang out with the other guardians a lot?” Jamie asked.

“Every now and again. Sandy and Tooth are busy a lot, but I’ll catch them while they’re working sometimes. North and Bunny, I mostly see if there’s something important happening or a meeting or if I just feel like messing with Bunny,” Jack explained, Jamie hanging on his every word.

“What do you guys do at meetings?” he asked.

“They’re _really boring_. Lots of numbers, lots of-” Jack was cut off as the elves crashed into another iced path with a huge _crack_. He winced as they brought themselves back to their feet in an uncoordinated fashion, holding their heads as their bells jingled slightly.

“See, this is why they’re testing it out before you guys,” Jack said, gliding down to where the elves were and kneeling down before them. “You guys okay?”

The elves didn’t seem to be paying much mind to Jack, instead were lumbering about with their arms spread in an attempt to keep their balance.

“Hey!” Jack said, snapping his fingers in front of them, hoping to get their attention. They finally turned to him, one falling over in the process. “Take ten, okay? No sled until you stop seeing spots.”

The elves nodded and took a seat in the snow as Jack returned to where Jamie still stood, watching.

“Are they going to be okay?” asked the child, watching the elves with concern.

“They should be, they’re pretty resilient,” Jack assured him. “Looks like it just shook them up a little. Besides, maybe now I can actually get this part of the course done before they try to test it out again.”

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out Jamie’s drawing, carefully unrolling it and handing it to the boy. “Willing to be my construction supervisor for a while?”

“Definitely!” Jamie said, looking down at the drawing before pointing to part of the course. “We need at least three feet more ice there, and support beams over there!”

“Can do,” Jack laughed, hovering above the areas in question, creating ice as he went.


	3. Sledding

_Rowan’s jaw dropped at the sight.  The best way it could be described was a slippery, icy, death trap._

 

* * *

 

**Chapter Three: Sledding**

* * *

  
  
Jamie awoke to a snowball to the face. He laughed a bit, sitting up in his bed slowly as he wiped snow from his eyes and looked to the window where Jack was standing on the sill, smirking.  
  
“It’s done,” the winter spirit said simply.  
  
Jamie scrambled out of bed, gathering together proper clothes. “This is great, I have to tell the guys!” he said, pulling off his pajama shirt so that he could tug on a flannel shirt instead.  
  
“I’ll tell them, you just meet us there,” Jack said.  
  
“Okay!” Jamie said as Jack flew off. Jamie continued rushing around his room, hastily getting dressed before tumbling out of his bedroom and rushing down the stairs toward his boots near the door.  
  
“Jamie?” Lorelei said, “Where do you think you’re going?”  
  
“Why is he so energetic right now? Can they, like, bottle that? Coffee doesn’t do much for me anymore,” Rowan mumbled, sipping from her mug before stabbing at her hash browns with her fork.  
  
“I don’t think they can bottle ‘being nine-years-old’,” Lorelei commented before turning back to her son, fumbling with his shoe laces. “Jamie, you have to eat breakfast before you go out to play, we went over this.”  
  
“But Mom! There’s this place we’re gonna go sledding and-”  
  
“And it will still be there after you eat,” Lorelei said, pointing to the kitchen table. Jamie pouted and walked over to said table, taking a seat next to Rowan.  
  
“Good morning, Jamie,” Rowan said before finishing off her toast.  
  
“Good morning, Rowan,” Jamie replied, his eyes fixed on the window.  
  
“Do you want scrambled eggs, Jamie?” Lorelei asked, approaching the stove.  
  
“Yes,” Jamie said.  
  
 _“Yes?”_ Lorelei repeated, watching her son expectantly.  
  
“Yes,  _please_ ,” Jamie said with as much emphasis as he could manage.  
  
“Good boy,” the woman replied, turning back to the stove and reaching for the carton of eggs.  
  
“You’re pretty excited about this sledding thing, aren’t you?” Rowan commented, gathering together her dishes and heading to the sink.  
  
“It’s gonna be so cool! You should come with me,” Jamie said excitedly.  
  
“I don’t have a sled,” Rowan pointed out.  
  
“We have an extra one,” Jamie said.  
  
“You should go, it’ll be fun,” Lorelei said, her eyes fixed on the pan in front of her. “Besides, the last time Jamie went sledding he knocked out a tooth, I’d like it if someone was there to keep an eye on him.”  
  
“I’ll be fine!” Jamie said.  
  
“I’ll go, I just have to put real clothes on, brush my hair,” Rowan said, “Give me like ten minutes.”  
  
“That’s fine, Jamie has to eat and brush his teeth anyway,” Lorelei said, sliding eggs from the pan onto a plate for the boy who was becoming more and more impatient.  
  
“All right, give me a few,” Rowan said, heading to the living room where she left her backpack. She slung it over her shoulder before heading into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She set the bag on the floor and turned on the faucet before pulling her hair back in a ponytail so she could wash her face.  
  
“When was the last time I went sledding?” Rowan mumbled to herself, scrubbing face wash into her cheeks. It would be a lie to say that she hadn’t considered it every time campus was covered with a few inches, always enough to be an inconvenience but never enough for a snow day. She and her friend, Shirley, had definitely sneaked out of a few studio classes to build a snowman before. But no sledding, not for a long time.  
  
“Freshman year,” she said, patting her face dry. High school, that is, not college. She had just dyed her hair pink without her mother’s permission, it was fried, brittle and dry from the bleach but Rowan had adored it. She and a few of her friends, also with various physical statements of rebellion such as self-pierced lips and studded bracelets decided to take a few trash can lids and boards and slide down a hill.  
  
As Rowan pulled on a sweater she remembered having fallen into the snow, and upon standing up, leaving streaks of pink where her hair had been.  
  
“Embarrassing,” she mumbled as she remembered the state of her hair at that time. Two years later she cut all the bleached parts off, leaving her with a bob cut to get rid of the damage. She examined her reflection in the mirror, touching the dark brown roots of her hair as she thought of this. The burgundy dye required no preliminary bleaching since Rowan wanted the color dark anyway, so it caused significantly less damage.  
  
“Note to self, buy another box of dye,” she said before pulling out her hairbrush from her bag and running it through her hair. Some days she missed the pink, truthfully. But she went to an art and design college. There were at least six other girls wandering around with pink hair, and the upkeep had been a pain.  
  
She pulled on a knit hat, effectively covering her roots before sliding her jeans on and emerging from the bathroom, finding Jamie rushing from the kitchen so that he could brush his teeth and be permitted to leave.  
  
“Whoa, slow down!” Rowan said, stepping aside quickly to avoid being plowed into by her cousin.  
  
“Sorry!” he said, continuing his mad dash up the stairs to the bathroom where his toothbrush, decorated with various super heroes, was located.  
  
Rowan set her bag in the corner and wandered over to the door where her boots lie, pulling them on. Sledding. It had been so long!  
  
Jamie re-appeared quickly, only to be sent back to brush his teeth more thoroughly by Lorelei. Soon enough, though, Jamie led Rowan through the garage to retrieve the sleds and soon they were outside the house, ready to be on their way.  
  
“Oh, come  _on,”_  Rowan whined as she saw her car coated in snow and frost, brushing some of it off her mirror as they passed. “That’s gonna be fun to scrape off later. Never start driving, Jamie.”  
  
“Come on, this way!” Jamie said, seemingly so focused on getting to wherever this sledding location was that he hadn’t heard her.  
  
“Slow down, everything’s icy!” Rowan said, carefully pursuing the boy, eventually catching up to him as they approached the lake. He began heading for a trail near the woods.  
  
“Where are we going?” Rowan asked.  
  
“You’ll see!” Jamie said.  
  
“You’re not actually taking me to try to hunt Bigfoot or something, are you? Because I don’t think he lives around here, I think he’s further north,” Rowan said, ducking under a low branch as they began walking the trail.  
  
“He is, and his name is Phil,” Jamie said in a matter-of-fact tone. “We’re going sledding, trust me.”  
  
“Okay, if you say so,” Rowan said skeptically, twisting a small braid in her hair as they walked, a nervous habit. She pulled a small, clear band from her pocket and fastened it in place before starting another, finding that they had been walking for a while.  
  
“Sure you know where you’re going?” she asked again.  
  
“We’re almost there!” Jamie assured her, and a few steps later, sure enough they approached the clearing, Jamie’s friends waiting for them.  
  
Rowan’s jaw dropped at the sight. The best way it could be described was a slippery, icy, death trap. Nature had not created this scene, but Rowan could not exactly pinpoint what else could have constructed the course that twisted along the valley in smooth, icy sheets.  
  
“Jamie, this is so cool!” Pippa said as soon as Jamie joined the others where they stood.  
  
“We were waiting for you to go first,” Claude added, though he and his brother seemed to be growing impatient in the waiting.  
  
“Hi Rowan,” Cupcake said, finally drawing Rowan out of her state of shock at the whole scene. She had met the group over the summer during a visit and had taken a particular liking to the tall girl addressing her.  
  
“Oh, hello Cupcake,” Rowan said. She turned back to the course before addressing Jamie, “Jamie, this looks really dangerous.”  
  
“It’s fine, Rowan!” Jamie assured her before setting up his sled.  
  
“No, really, Jamie-” Rowan started before the boy climbed on his sled. “Jamie, don’t!”  
  
But it was too late, the boy had already started off on the course. Rowan dropped the sled she had been carrying in front of her in order to cover her mouth, watching with eyes wide in horror as her little cousin went speeding around the valley. The other children cheered.  
  
“Oh no, oh no,” Rowan mumbled. Claude and Caleb rushed over to the edge and rushed after Jamie. “No-!” Rowan began but Monty, Pippa and Cupcake rapidly followed.  
  
“Oh no,” she said again. “What am I going to tell Aunt Lorelei? ‘Oh, sorry, Aunt, I know you trusted me with your  _first born_  and _only son_ , but he went cascading down an icy path and broke his neck.’ Not to mention, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, parents of children  _I don’t even know well_ , they just went tumbling after him, it all just happened so fast, I couldn’t prevent it because I just  _suck that much.”_  
  
Rowan glanced back at the children speeding about the course and covered her eyes quickly as Jamie came to a jump, peeking between her fingers when she heard them laughing, finding that he was okay for now. For a brief moment, she was relieved.  
  
Jack, who had been watching the whole ordeal from the high branch of a nearby tree, smirked at Rowan rehearsing what she would tell everyone’s mother if the worst were to occur. He gathered together a bit of snow from the tree and kneaded it within his hands until it was a proper snowball. He lightly blew on the snowball, watching as it turned blue briefly before throwing it at the back of Rowan’s head.  
  
She jerked forward at the impact, taken by surprised and looked around for whoever threw the snow briefly as she laughed. “And now there’s snowball-throwing ghosts,  _great!”_  
  
“Hey, wind…” Jack whispered, still smirking. The wind picked up so suddenly that Rowan found herself losing her balance until she finally fell forward on the sled she’d dropped earlier. She let out a small shriek as the sled was forced forward and down the course.  
  
Rowan clung to the sled until her knuckles were white as she picked up speed along the course. She closed her eyes and winced at the first few sharp turns but soon found that she actually looked forward to them when she realized she wasn’t going to be flung off the path. The momentum blew her hair back, cold air making her shut her eyes slightly as she went. She couldn’t help her laughter and the excitement that seemed to consume her as the ride continued. Sudden drops, quick jumps, it was all too thrilling.  
  
She was genuinely having fun, and she couldn’t really remember the last time that happened. She reached the end of the course, which was one last jump. She closed her eyes once again and prepared for impact as she saw a large snow bank quickly approaching.  
  
Rowan groaned a bit as she crash landed into the soft snow, glad that it had at least been a cushioned landing. She pulled herself up to a seated position to find the children standing nearby, having landed without a scratch. Stumbling over to them, still covered in snow, Rowan approached Jamie and pulled him into her arms.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Jamie, I thought this thing was gonna kill  _all of you_ ,” she said. Jamie grinned at Jack, still watching from his tree and gave him the thumbs up, which the winter spirit returned.  
  
“I told you it would be okay,” Jamie said as Rowan finally released him from her grasp, still kneeling in the snow.  
  
“You did,” Rowan acknowledged, smiling as she brushed snow off of herself. “I was still worried.”  
  
“It was fun, though, wasn’t it?” he said.  
  
Rowan paused a moment, looking back to the course before locking her brown eyes with Jamie’s once more. “That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, actually.”  
  
“Let’s go again, let’s go again!” Claude and Caleb began to chant. Soon the others had joined in.  
  
Rowan sighed, “Okay, okay… race you back to the start!”


	4. Bedtime Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's going up a bit late, I didn't have internet access yesterday! This one is my favorite so far (and also the longest). I've got to sit down and write the next one before next week.

_"Once upon a time, there was a boy. A boy named… hmm…"_

_"You’re not gonna do what Mom does and say, ‘Once upon a time there was a boy named Jamie who wouldn’t go to bed’ are you?" Jamie asked with a frown._

* * *

 

**Chapter Four: Bedtime Stories**

* * *

  
  
“Well, I think dinner was a success,” Lorelei commented as she attempted to fit all of the leftovers into the fridge. It was Thursday evening, Thanksgiving, and she and Rowan were in the process of cleaning the kitchen.  
  
“I think so too,” Rowan agreed, “I’m just glad I didn’t mess up the mashed potatoes. I mean, I know they’re pretty difficult  _to_ mess up, but still.”  
  
“You did fine with them- What’s that?” Lorelei said, glancing over at her niece, who was leaning over the open dishwasher to place a handful of utensils in the proper place. Her hair and shifted from the back of her neck just enough to see  _something_ there.  
  
Rowan stood straight suddenly, brown eyes wider than usual. “What’s what?”  
  
“On the back of your neck,” Lorelei said, trying to walk around to Rowan’s back, but the girl kept turning to keep this from happening.  
  
“On the back of my neck?” Rowan repeated innocently.  
  
 _“Rowan,”_  Lorelei said, speeding up a bit and changing direction in an attempt to see what Rowan was hiding. Rowan simply continued to turn. It seemed like a strange sort of dance they were performing, Rowan still holding a fork in her hand as she went.  
  
“Really, Aunt, you have to leave for work soon, I don’t know that there’s time to worry about things like my neck, so long as it’s not currently broken,” said Rowan in a matter-of-fact tone.  
  
Finally Lorelei took Rowan’s shoulder in one hand and leaned over, pushing her hair away with the other one, finding black script when she did so.  
  
 _“Rowan Jean Sawyer,”_  Lorelei said.  
  
“Lorelei Jean Bennett?” Rowan said, biting her lip nervously as she finally ceased spinning, accepting that she had lost the strange game of keep away.  
  
“Is that a tattoo? On the back of your  _neck?”_  the older woman said, walking around her niece in order to take a closer look. The script was elegant, with graceful curves and twirls, but still legible. It was obviously done with care, by someone skilled.   
  
It read: Once Upon A Time.  
  
“Please don’t tell my parents, I’m pretty sure they would take care of the whole ‘my neck isn’t broken right now’ thing,” Rowan said. “They already weren’t happy about my stars.” She held up her left wrist, adorned with two stars, the one to the right slightly larger.  
  
“How many secrets do you expect me to keep from them?” Lorelei asked as Rowan turned around to properly face her. “First the incidents in traffic on the way over, now this tattoo.”  
  
“Okay you know the traffic thing is just for mom’s own good, she’d worry herself into a coma but only after making sure that her living will stated I had to come home and never leave the house again because people are dangerous,” Rowan said immediately. “And the tattoo, uh, well, that’s mostly for  _my_  own good since it’s kind of amazing that Dad didn’t actually disown me when I went out and got my  _second_  one…”  
  
“Why did this have to be on the back of your  _neck?_ ” Lorelei asked, some sadness clear in her voice as she simply could not understand why the girl would do such a thing.  
  
“All stories start with ‘once upon a time,’ but only after an idea,” Rowan said, tapping the side of her head. “Keep those two things close.”  
  
“Oh, Rowan,” Lorelei said, shaking her head.  
  
“Hey, most of the time you can’t even see it.”  
  
“How long has it been there?”  
  
“Halloween. Shirley got her humming bird and I got this.”  
  
Lorelei shook her head again, arms crossed before her chest. “How many does this make?”  
  
“Three,” Rowan said. Lorelei rose a brow. “Don’t look at me like that, it really is just three.”  
  
“I don’t like keeping secrets from my sister, and if she figures it out and finds out that  _I_  knew and didn’t tell her…”  
  
“Well, she’ll call you to be like, ‘You’ll never guess what Rowan did to herself!’ and then you can just be surprised when she rages about it?” Rowan suggested with an innocent smile. Lorelei simply sighed. “Okay how about this?”  
  
“How about what?”  
  
“If I go missing and the police need a detailed description of what I look like and my body markings, by all means, you can tell both them  _and_  my parents about my tattoo, deal?” Rowan reached out her hand to shake.  
  
“That’s an  _awful_  hypothetical,” Lorelei said.  
  
“It absolutely is, deal?” Rowan asked again.  
  
The older woman sighed and took Rowan’s hand, shaking it briefly. “Deal.”  
  
Rowan released her aunt’s hand before hugging her briefly. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, but if Dot finds out, that’s when  _I’m_  finding out,” Lorelei said.  
  
“Of course, I won’t sell you out,” Rowan promised, returning to the dishwasher to finish loading it. Lorelei smiled softly before stuffing the last few plastic containers into the fridge and leaving the kitchen to get ready for work, passing a frost-covered window as she went.  
  
Jack had been passing by when he had decided to peek in, and was glad he did. The exchange and the manic spinning around the kitchen had been quite entertaining while it had lasted.   
  
However, Rowan continuing to put the dishes away failed to keep his interest much longer, and he pulled his hood over his head before raising himself up to Jamie’s bedroom window.  
  
“Jamie, close your window, it’s freezing outside!” Lorelei said, as though on cue, the moment Jack approached said window.  
  
“Okay, Mom,” Jamie said, getting up from the desk where he’d been working on a drawing and walking toward the window, finding Jack sitting on the sill.  
  
“Hi Jack,” Jamie greeted with a smile.  
  
“Hey Jamie, how’d Thanksgiving go?”  
  
“It was good. Mom has to work soon though,” Jamie said with a small frown and shrug of the shoulders.  
  
“Rowan watching you guys, then?” Jack asked.  
  
“Yep,” Jamie paused a moment before seeming to get an idea he was rather excited about. “You should come back in a little bit! I’m going to try to get her to tell me a bedtime story.”  
  
“Bedtime story?” Jack repeated. He liked stories and all, but he didn’t quite understand why Jamie was so excited about the idea of one.  
  
“Rowan tells the  _best_  stories,” Jamie insisted.  
  
“I don’t know, I’ve heard a lot of stories,” Jack said with a smirk.  
  
“They’re the  _best._  Plus, she owes me one, she hasn’t told me a story the whole visit.”  
  
“Jamie! What did I tell you about that window?” Lorelei said, appearing in the doorway with Sophie.  
  
“Sorry, mom!” Jamie said. Jack climbed back outside, hovering nearby while Jamie reached for and closed the window in question.  
  
“Honestly, Jamie, you’ll catch your death,” Lorelei said as Jamie walked back over to her after glancing at his window one last time. Lorelei kneeled down before her two children before giving them each a quick hug. “You two behave for Rowan, okay? I want you both in bed soon! You both know the rules, lights out, no late TV, no sweets after you brush your teeth.  
  
“Why are you going to work at night, Mommy?” Sophie pouted.  
  
“We’re having a big sale, so they need me there to make sure people buy lots of things,” Lorelei said. “I’ll be back before you two wake up, I promise.”  
  
The woman kissed the top of both children’s heads before standing up and heading down the staircase. “Be good!” She called back to them again as she slipped on her coat and boots.  
  
“Bye-bye Mommy,” Sophie called, she and Jamie sitting at the top of the stairs, watching as their mother gathered together purse and keys.  
  
“Bye, Mom,” Jamie called as well.  
  
“I love you guys,” she called up to them with a smile.  
  
“Love you too,” they said in unison as Rowan left the kitchen and entered the front room.  
  
“Love you, too, Rowan,” Lorelei said as her niece approached.  
  
“Oh, I love you too, Aunt, I love  _everyone_  who can keep a secret,” Rowan smirked. “Be careful driving.”  
  
“I will, you call me if you need me, there’s emergency numbers on the fridge, too, and-”  
  
“Call 9-1-1 if the house catches fire, don’t talk to strangers, we’ll be fine!” Rowan said. “Go to work!”  
  
Lorelei pulled Rowan into a quick hug before waving to Sophie and Jamie, still seated at the top of the stairs. The next moment she was out the front door, and the sound of her car starting could be heard.  
  
Rowan ascended the stairs, stopping short at the top as her little cousins were still seated there.  
  
“All right, kids, you heard the lady, time to get ready for bed, let’s go, get those teeth brushed,” she said.  
  
Sophie yawned in response before saying, “Not tired!”  
  
“I somehow doubt that, come on,” Rowan said, taking Sophie’s hand and leading her to the bathroom where she climbed atop a stool in order to reach her tooth brush. Jamie followed, taking his place on the other side of the sink.  
  
The usual routine followed, with Rowan following Sophie into her room after everything was finished with the bathroom to put her to bed. Jamie was free to return to his room alone and climb into his bed, watching the window.  
  
Jack hadn’t wandered far when the bedroom window had to be closed, choosing instead to sit atop the roof and watch Lorelei drive off before starting a small snowstorm.  
  
Should he stick around for a story? Jamie’s claim of Rowan’s being the  _best_  was awfully bold. It might just be worth investigating.  
  
Jack walked over to the edge of the roof, leaning over so that he might glance through one of the top panes of the window to see what was going on.  
  
Rowan peeked into Jamie's bedroom, finding him sitting upright in his bed, watching as the snow hit the glass of his window. His eyes were focused; he was ever alert and very much awake.  
  
"The Sandman hasn't visited you yet, Jamie?" Rowan asked, stepping inside his room and approaching him where he sat.  
  
"I'm not tired," Jamie said, turning his attention from the window and to his cousin.  
  
"I managed to get Sophie to sleep right away," Rowan said, sitting at the edge of his bed and looking around at the drawings pinned to the wall in the dim light of the boy's toy robot that doubled as a night light. "I thought she'd be the hard one."  
  
"Maybe you should tell me a story," Jamie suggested, smiling winningly up at the girl, who turned her head back to face him. She returned his grin, unsurprised at his request. He always demanded a story out of her when she visited.  
  
"A story, huh? I suppose I could do that," Rowan said, pulling her legs atop the bed so that she sat cross-legged across from the boy. "Once upon a time, there was a boy. A boy named... hmm..."  
  
"You're not gonna do what Mom does and say, 'Once upon a time there was a boy named Jamie who wouldn't go to bed' are you?" Jamie asked with a frown.  
  
Rowan laughed at the suggestion, Jack couldn't help but smile, leaning over a bit more in the hopes of perhaps hearing better. "My mom used to do that, too. No, I won't."  
  
"Good," Jamie said, satisfied.  
  
"But this boy still needs a name," Rowan pointed out.  
  
Jamie glanced behind Rowan, spying Jack, who smiled once eye contact was made. Pleased to see that Jack had come back to hear the story, Jamie turned back to Rowan and immediately suggested, "Jack."  
  
"Jack?" Rowan repeated, seeming to mull over the suggestion for a moment. "Okay, Jack. Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack. He was young, a trickster, as boys named 'Jack' tend to be."  
  
Jack wasn't sure if he should take offense to such a generalization or not, considering how true it was in his case. After all, he _did_  hold the record on North's naughty list.  
  
"Jack was... a pirate," Rowan said, spying a copy of  _Treasure Island_  on Jamie's bookshelf, clearly making things up as she went along.  
  
"Like Captain Jack Sparrow?" the boy asked.  
  
"No," Rowan said immediately. "This Jack wasn't a captain. And he consumed far less alcohol, so he was actually a bit more efficient than Jack Sparrow-"  
  
 _"Captain_  Jack Sparrow," Jamie corrected immediately.  
  
"Right, right," Rowan said, nodding. "This Jack was about as low on the pirate food-chain as he could be. Forced to, hmm... scrub the brig and scrape barnacles off the side of the ship whenever it was at port."  
  
Jack wasn't sure how he felt about this story quite yet.  
  
"But one night there was a terrible storm," the girl said dramatically with accompanying hand gestures. "The ship was destroyed, the captain, of course, went down with it, and the roaring waves left no survivors... no survivors except for one."  
  
"Jack," Jamie said, completely fixated with his cousin's words.  
  
"Exactly! Clinging to a piece of driftwood, Jack struggled through the storm to stay above water, always seconds away from a watery death."  
  
"Watery death? What a coincidence," Jack whispered to himself.  
  
"His fighting wasn't for nothing, though. Soon enough, the storm passed, and Jack found himself washed up on an island."  
  
"Was it deserted?" Jamie asked.  
  
"No, no, not at all," Rowan said, as though she were already an expert on this place she had just invented. "It was part of a whole chain of islands, established towns with a government and everything. This one, though, this one wasn't as developed as the other ones, so at first, Jack thought it  _was_  deserted."  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
"Yeah, what did I do?" Jack muttered.  
  
"He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled through the thick forest on the edge of the island before he came to a stream and drank like he'd never seen fresh water before in his life. Then he decided to follow the stream, hoping that it would bring him to a lake where he could set up camp until he figured out what to do from there.  
  
“Along the way, he found the small island town, and for a moment was relieved that he was not, actually, on a deserted island. However, he still looked very much like a pirate, and as pirates are notorious criminals, Jack felt it was best to get cleaned up before wandering into town. He’d been thrown in jail before, and he wasn’t in a big rush to go back. So, he continued along the stream, still hoping to find a lake at the end.  
  
"But when he found the lake, he found something else, as well. It was a strange little hut with symbols he'd never seen before carved into the sides and odd colored smoke erupting from an opening in the roof."  
  
"A witch!" Jamie exclaimed.  
  
"Shh, shh, your sister's still sleeping," Rowan hushed. Jamie immediately shut his mouth and smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Sorry," he whispered.  
  
"It's okay," Rowan said. "But you're right, it was a witch!"  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
“Jack was no fool, he knew it wasn't a good idea to get on a witch's bad side. But Jack also knew that he was very charming, and was very confident that he could get her to help him figure out where exactly he was... and why he kept having such bad luck. So he approached the hut and knocked on the door. The witch answered, watching him suspiciously and demanding to know who he was. He introduced himself, and explained what had happened. He was  _really_  suave about the whole thing before asking if she'd be willing to help a weary traveler out."  
  
"Did she?"  
  
"How could she resist?" Rowan asked. Jack smirked, deciding that he  _did_  like this story. "She brought him inside and began serving him some very questionable looking food, which under normal circumstances he would have never eaten. But he was so hungry after everything that happened with the ship that he choked down the strange looking dishes... but only after seeing the witch do the same. After they were full, they sat by the fire, upon which was a bubbling cauldron. The witch asked him what was troubling him, and he told her all about his time as a pirate, and how he'd always get stuck with the worst chores and was now without a ship or a crew at all. In fact, he'd  _always_  had bad luck, ever since his childhood."  
  
"Did she give him a potion? A charm? A magic spell?" Jamie asked, lying back and resting his head against his pillows while the story continued.  
  
"No, no, none of that. All of that costs money and Jack had nothing to his name. She took a liking to Jack, though, and had been so lonely that she was thankful for his companionship, so decided to give him something for free: information."  
  
"Information?" Jamie asked, pouting. That sounded so much less exciting than a spell or a potion.  
  
"Information is priceless, Jamie, remember that," Rowan said. "She explained to Jack that she knew precisely what the cause of his bad luck was: a curse."  
  
Jamie yawned, his energy fading, though still entirely interested in the story. "Who cursed him?"  
  
"A sea witch, that's why he was safe temporarily with the land witch, they don't interfere with each other much," Rowan said.  
  
"Did she know why?"  
  
"Of course. Jack's father, you see, was also very charming, and also a pirate. He had charmed the sea witch to get to her riches and then broken her heart, so she vowed revenge by cursing him and his first born son with terrible luck, though never enough to kill them. No, she wanted them to live to continue having an incredibly unlucky existence. At least, until she decided they had suffered enough."  
  
"Was there anything he could do about it?" Jamie asked, his eyelids getting heavy.  
  
"Yes, there was. He had to find the sea witch and defeat her in one of her games, then the curse would be broken. But there was a problem with that plan, you see, to summon the sea witch, you have to drop some gold off the dock during a full moon. Jack had just missed the full moon, however, and would have to wait a month for the next one, not to mention he didn’t have any gold.”  
  
“What did he do?” Jamie mumbled, now struggling to keep his eyes open. Rowan stood up from her place on the end of the bed and took Jamie’s stuffed rabbit, setting it beside him before making sure he was tucked into his bed well.  
  
“I think we’ll save the rest of the story for another night,” Rowan whispered, before kissing Jamie’s forehead. “Goodnight, Jamie.”  
  
“Are you kidding? It was just getting interesting,” Jack mumbled.  
  
Jamie seemed slightly disappointed as well, but didn’t have enough energy to argue. “Goodnight, Rowan,” he yawned before finally giving up on the fight to keep his eyes open.  
  
Jack watched as Rowan slipped out of Jamie’s bedroom before pulling himself back up to a standing position atop the roof and strolling across to the other side of the house. Gracefully, he lowered himself down to the ground outside the living room window and peeked inside just in time to find Rowan turning on the lamp near the couch. She stretched and yawned before curling up on the cushions with the blanket she’d been using.  
  
Abby got up from her place near the heating vent and climbed atop the couch with Rowan, setting her head in her lap. Rowan smiled and scratched behind Abby’s ears for a moment before leaning over to her backpack on the floor and pulling out a beaten up notebook and pen.  
  
“I need to outline this story, Abbey, before I forget more of my ideas,” Rowan explained to the dog as she looked for a blank page. When she found one, she began scribbling madly. In-between wondering what exactly Rowan was writing down, Jack took note of the fact that she was left-handed.  
  
“I think I know how Jack will get his gold,” Rowan said to the dog, still scribbling in the notebook. Jack perked up, hoping that she might explain to the dog so he would find out more of the story before the night was through. “But I have to think on it a bit more, make sure it will work story-wise, you know?”  
  
Abby simply closed her eyes, in response. Rowan smiled, shifting a bit so she was a bit more comfortable with the dog sleeping before returning her attention to her notebook.  
  
Jack found himself waiting and watching Rowan as she wrote her notes, her pace gradually slowing until she stopped writing all together, falling asleep with her head resting in her palm. Above her head, a pirate ship made of the Sandman’s golden dream sand appeared, sailing on harsh waters.  
  
“Thought you only brought dreams to kids, Sandy,” Jack said, glancing up at the skies to the fantastic dream sand creatures gliding by. He made a mental note to ask about this the next time he saw the small, silent man.  
  
After one last glance through the window, Jack took off towards home base where he planned to get at least a few hours of shut-eye in before he’d get started on his blizzard he had planned.


	5. Promises

_It worked out just too well.  Nature didn’t play games like that._

* * *

 

**Chapter Five: Promises**

* * *

  
  
“Rowan, I really don’t want you to leave today,” Lorelei said, stuffing her hands into her pockets as the snow continued to fall and Rowan struggled to scrape the ice from her windshield. Her jeep sounded somewhat depressed as it ran, not yet warmed up. Jamie lingered near the car, brushing snow off the doors with his gloved hands.  
  
“I have to, Aunt, I’ve gotta try to work on that painting sometime this weekend since I flaked out and didn’t bring it with me, and Shirley and I want to go over our history presentation at  _some_  point before we have to present it,” Rowan said. She lifted up her windshield wipers so that she could properly scrape beneath them, cursing softly under her breath at the weather.  
  
“We’re supposed to get more than a foot of snow just tonight, though, you really ought to wait it out,” Lorelei said as she entered the open garage and retrieved her own ice scraper to help Rowan out.  
  
“You should stay and tell me the rest of that story,” Jamie suggested, looking up at the girl with a winning smile.  
  
“Aw, I still need to sort out how that story’s gonna end,” Rowan said, gently setting her windshield wiper back in its original position. Her attention turned briefly to Lorelei. “Besides, the weather’s supposed to get even worse throughout the weekend, if I wait it out I won’t be able to get back until Monday evening at the earliest and I’ll miss a day of finals.”  
  
“Surely if the roads get as bad as they’re saying they will they’ll have to give you a day off?”  
  
“Ha!” Rowan said, scraping ice from the driver’s side window now. “I go to a private college, which means that even if every other school in the state is closed, they don’t have to give us the day off. And they  _definitely_ won’t do that during finals.”  
  
“That’s just ridiculous, this storm is supposed to be just awful! And don’t you still have two weeks left of the semester? Why are you having finals next week?”  
  
“That’s my school,” Rowan said, moving on to scrape the next window so she might be able to see out of her blind spot for a little while, at least. “Because I go to art school and ‘finals week’ is really more like, a month. It’s mostly the liberal arts classes that are doing ‘finals: part one’ this week.”  
  
“I do not miss school. Ugh, I’m just worried, you already had issues with the weather on the way here,” Lorelei said.  
  
“I know you are, but I should be fine, I mean, hopefully everyone else is waiting it out and there won’t be too much traffic?” the girl said with a bit of a shrug.  
  
“You just make sure that you have your phone charged, and that first aid kit, and-”  
  
“It’s going to be fine, Aunt,” Rowan stressed. “I tell you what, if I think it’s gonna be too much to handle, I’ll turn around and come right back, okay?”  
  
“Come right back and tell me the  _rest of the story,”_  Jamie corrected.  
  
“I will call you once I decide how the story ends, how about that?” Rowan laughed, leaning against her car as Jamie kneaded together some of the nearby snow into an orb.  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Promise.”  
  
“You’d  _better_  come back if things get too rough,” Lorelei said, bringing the two back to the subject at hand. “Dot is going to be _so mad_  at me when I tell her that you left in this weather.”  
  
“You tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t listen,” Rowan said with a short nod as Lorelei returned her scraper to its original place, the windows of Rowan’s jeep now free from ice.  
  
“You are such a frustrating child,” Lorelei said.  
  
“Hey, I’m not a child!” Rowan said with a pout as she set her scraper back in her car. “I’m only a teenager for another  _week,”_ she added, matter-of-factly. Rowan jumped suddenly as the snowball that Jamie had been working on hit the back of her head. She turned to find the boy avoiding eye contact with an innocent smile, rocking back and forth on his heels.  
  
“Oh, that’s right,” Lorelei said as Rowan hastily formed a snowball and began chasing a laughing Jamie around the yard. “You might find a package when you get back.”  
  
“… you got me something?” Rowan said, stopping her pursuit and looking back to her car where Lorelei still stood. “You didn’t have to do that, Aunt, you fed me and let me use your washing machine.”  
  
“You are my  _only_  niece, I think I can get you a birthday gift,” Lorelei said.  
  
“It’s a really good one, I helped her pick it out!” Jamie said, approaching Rowan again. Rowan turned and threw the snowball in her hand at Jamie in response, now that he was close enough that even  _she_  could not miss him. Jamie quickly kneeled down to gather more snow and Rowan rushed over to Lorelei, ducking behind her.  
  
“That’s really nice, thank you, but you really didn’t have to-”  
  
“Just let me know if it got there okay,” Lorelei said, giving her son a look as though daring him to throw the snowball in his hand at her in an attempt to hit Rowan. He lowered his snowy weapon and pouted.  
  
“Okay, I will,” Rowan said. She raised her hands in the air, as if showing she was unarmed and stepped out from behind Lorelei. “Call it a draw, Admiral? I need to pack my car.”  
  
“Awww,” Jamie said, tossing the snowball to the side. “Fine, okay.”  
  
The three approached the front porch where Rowan had set down her bags while she got her car situated and where Sophie sat on a wooden bench, carefully brushing the hair of a doll. Each taking a bag, they returned to the car to load it. “So, uh, if the package  _is_  there… do I get to open it now or do I have to wait until my birthday?”  
  
“It’s your gift, I’ll leave that up to you,” replied Lorelei as Rowan opened the back of her jeep and they gently set the bags inside.  
  
“I’m opening it,” she decided immediately.  
  
“All right, sounds good,” Lorelei laughed before turning her attention back to the porch where Sophie still sat. “Sophie! Come over here and say goodbye to Rowan!”  
  
The small blonde approached the group, her doll still in her arm. Rowan went down the line, embracing each of the Bennetts, ending with Jamie.  
  
“You  _promise_  you’ll call and tell me the rest of the story?” Jamie stressed.  
  
“Yes, yes, I will,” Rowan said before kissing the boy’s forehead. “And I want you to keep drawing and have some stories to tell _me_  next time I visit, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Jamie agreed.  
  
“Love you, Jamie.”  
  
“Love you too, Rowan.”  
  
Rowan stood upright so that she was no longer at the boy’s eye level and was about to head for the driver’s side of the car when Lorelei pulled her into another hug.  
  
“You text me when you get to your apartment!” Lorelei said.  
  
“I will, I will! You  _and_  mom. I swear, you guys are like Grandma sometimes,” Rowan said, returning her aunt’s hug.  
  
“We are  _not_  as bad as her,” Lorelei said immediately.  
  
“Give it a few years and you two will be saying,  _‘Oh, my land!_ ’ Seriously, though, stop worrying so much, it’s just a… okay, it’s a lot of snow, but I’ll be fine. I mean, the interstate’s still open so it can’t be  _that_  bad.”  
  
“Rowan, really,  _you don’t_   _have to drive in this_. Just let that school try to penalize you for missing a day, they’ll have to answer to Dot.”  
  
“While the wrath of Dorothy Sawyer is a powerful weapon to have on my side, I can’t run to Mom and Dad to fix all my problems. Besides, if I miss school I’m missing work study, too, and I could use the cash, Christmas is coming up after all.”  
  
Lorelei sighed, sadness in her eyes as it became clear that Rowan was going to leave no matter what she said.  _“Be careful_. It’s going to get ugly out there, you drive slow and-”  
  
 _“I’m going to be fine,_  really. Now I’ve got to go, okay?”  
  
Lorelei pulled Rowan into one more hug. “I love you. Be careful!”  
  
“Ditto, and I will!”  
  
Rowan pulled away from the older woman’s arms and rushed to the driver’s side door before she could begin objecting again. The car already running, Rowan pushed a few buttons on the stereo in order to prompt a CD to play, fastened her seatbelt, and backed out of the driveway.  
  
She paused to return the waves of the Bennetts before flipping on her windshield wipers and driving off. Jamie stood with his mother and sister and watched Rowan’s car until it turned the corner at the end of the street.  
  
Once inside, Lorelei sat at the kitchen table to begin going through the mail, though behind her glasses, her eyes showed clear worry. Every few moments she’d stop to look out the window at the snow rapidly hitting the glass.  
  
Jamie frowned at this, not enjoying seeing Lorelei so shaken up in the least. The winter had brought so much joy the past few days, but his mother’s worry was now starting to get to him as well. He quickly headed for his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Fumbling around his desk briefly, he pulled out a blank piece of paper and a pencil. Sitting himself down at the desk, he sharpened his pencil and began to write, careful to make sure it was legible.  
  
The letter wasn’t long, but Jamie figured that it would do the job. Setting down his pencil after signing his name in the cursive that he had just gone through the motions of learning, the boy began to fold the letter. It was meticulous work, but when he was through, he held in his hands quite the impressive paper airplane.  
  
Walking up to and opening his window, Jamie shivered as cold air burst inside, along with some of the snow that was falling.  
  
“H-hey wind!” Jamie said hesitantly. “I don’t know if you’ll listen to me, since I’m not Jack. But I have a letter for him,” the boy held up his airplane, as if to show the wind, “and I was hoping you would help me get it to him. It’s  _really_  important.”  
  
The wind shifted slightly, and Jamie wasn’t sure if that was a response or not, and if it was, whether it was positive or negative. He supposed there was only one way to find out.  
  
Taking careful aim, Jamie threw the paper airplane forward with all his might. The airplane glided forward for a moment, the flight shaky due to snow hitting it, and began to fall slowly to the ground, prompting a frown from Jamie.  
  
However, in the next instant, the airplane jerked upwards once more, looping around in the air for a moment before making a grand sweep around the yard and past Jamie’s window.  
  
Jamie smiled as the airplane was carried off into the distance, and uttered a simple, “thanks,” before closing his window.  
  


* * *

  
  
Most people would think that an open window in the middle of a snowstorm with strong winds would do little to help one sleep. Jack Frost, however, did not adhere to conventional standards of comfort, as was apparent from his current state: sprawled out on the mattress on the floor of his small cabin.  
  
The previously mentioned open window was letting plenty of snow inside, collecting on the floor and on top of Jack himself, still slumbering soundly.  
  
There was nothing stopping Jack from continuing to sleep his day away. Nothing, that is, except for a paper airplane, currently preparing to crash land right into Jack’s forehead.  
  
“Mmph,” he mumbled at impact, rolling over, eyes still closed. The wind picked up again, and once more the airplane hit him in the forehead.  
  
 _“What?”_  Jack growled, opening his eyes to see what had struck him. He sat upright, taking the airplane in his hand before glancing up at the window as a particularly large snowflake hit his cheek.  
  
“Oh good, I’m making blizzards in my sleep again,” Jack said sarcastically through a yawn. “That’s embarrassing.”  
  
Glancing back down at the airplane, he carefully unfolded it, surprised to find a letter from Jamie. It read:  
  
 _Dear Jack,_  
  
 _I hope you are doing well. Rowan just left to drive back to college. My mom is very worried about her because of the storm._  
  
 _I know that Guardians are supposed to protect the children of the world, and that Rowan is kind of an adult, but Guardians are supposed to protect things like wonder and hope, right? Rowan is full of these things._  
  
 _Could you maybe make sure that Rowan gets back to college safely? She is not a very good driver (don’t tell her I said that) and could use the help._  
  
 _Sincerely,_  
  
 _Jamie Bennett_  
  
Jack sighed, considering the letter for a moment. The storm he’d conjured up now  _was_  far harsher than the one that Rowan had driven to Burgess in. Jamie was important to him, and Rowan was important to Jamie. Keeping an eye on her car until she got to wherever she was going didn’t sound like the most  _fun_  way to spend the day, but it wouldn’t be a difficult task by any means.  
  
Not to mention, Jack was still curious about the story she had started telling the boy the previous night.  
  
Jack pulled himself to his feet, snatched a pen from the shelves on the wall, and hastily scribbled a response below Jamie’s letter.  
  
 _Jamie-_  
  
 _I promise I’ll protect her._  
  
 _-Jack_  
  
Jack carefully refolded the airplane and let the wind carry it from his hands and out the window, where it would soon find its way back to Jamie.   
  
“Now I just have to find her,” he mumbled to himself as he snatched up his staff and flew outside. The scene was beautiful, inches upon inches of snow coating every surface outside. It was stunning, absolutely stunning, provided you were not one of the people currently trying to drive in it, shovel it, plow it, or any of those other necessary winter chores.  
  
When Jack approached the interstate, he found three snowplows leading the way west with a great number of cars following closely behind. Flying lower, Jack scanned over the cars, trying to find the green jeep with the dents in the bumper and Mjolnir hanging from the rearview mirror. He found her in the middle lane, not far behind the plows. She was singing along to music he could barely hear from outside the car when he got closer.  
  
Carefully, he landed atop the car, standing on the roof as a surfer might stand on their board. He raised his arms to keep balance better and laughed a bit to himself, finding this new activity to be acceptable. He could have a little fun and keep an eye on Rowan at the same time. Perfect!  
  
That is, until the brake lights of the cars in front of them flashed, prompting Rowan to step on her brake pedal as well. Jack stumbled at the sudden change and found his feet slipping from underneath him. He fell forward, thankfully still on the roof of the car and groaned a bit, gripping the side briefly to keep from sliding forward.  
  
“Okay, so maybe that was dumb,” Jack said, pulling himself into a seated position, deciding this was a bit more stable as the cars inched forward.   
  
Looking ahead, he found that the reason for the sudden decline in speed was a sheet of ice covering the road. Several cars were having issues maintaining their lanes. Jack eyed the road, trying to decide how to handle this. Guiding a single kid’s sleigh along ice he had total control over was one thing, but this car had to be over a ton, and it wasn’t the only one.  
  
“And I didn’t even ice  _this_  road on purpose,” he sighed, barely having a second to contemplate his next move when the line of cars before Rowan’s began to slide slightly to the right, most of them recovering quickly. Rowan’s jeep soon followed suit.  
  


* * *

  
  
Rowan swore, knuckles turning white as she turned the steering wheel, holding her breath as she saw the car in the next lane coming dangerously close.  
  
Just what she needed, to slide into another car less than two hours after insisting to her aunt that  _nothing was going to happen._  
  
Suddenly, however, her car seemed to be on a slight incline, the passenger side of her car jerking upward.  
  
“What’s going on- Shit!” Rowan shrieked as her car slid in the opposite direction, now towards a car carefully making it’s way through the left lane. She winced, waiting for the impact when suddenly her side of the car tilted upward, jerking away from the car she was about to hit and sliding back to the right where she had been earlier.  
  
Again she found the passenger side of her car jerking up as she veered too close to the next lane. “What the hell is going on!?” she hissed, leaning forward to get a better look at the road directly in front of her. What she found only confused her further.  
  
It appeared that barriers of ice were materializing out of nowhere on either side of her lane to keep her car in line. She was reminded of bowling when she was younger and making use of the lane bumpers to avoid gutter balls.  
  
Rowan furrowed her brow at the sight, doing her best to steady her car in the midst of her bewilderment. She was not a science student in the least. In fact, the only reason she had gotten a decent grade in physics class while attending high school was because her boyfriend at the time had practically done her homework for her. She knew only the most basic of scientific concepts. She was an artist, a writer.  
  
But she knew for a fact that sheets of ice didn’t just materialize out of nowhere like that, in shapes crafted specifically to keep cars within their own lanes. It was too convenient. It worked out just too well. Nature didn’t play games like that.  
  
So what exactly had just happened?  
  
The ice gradually thinned out now that Rowan and the other drivers had regained control of their vehicles, and soon enough her tires were gliding across a wet, slightly snow-covered road. The plows appeared to have done a decent job clearing most of it away in this section of the road, and everyone began to return to their usual speeds.  
  
Watching the snow twirl into her windshield and be whipped away by the wipers, the girl briefly wondered if perhaps she was going insane. Maybe the incident with the ice hadn’t, in fact, happened at all.  
  
She had always been told she had an overactive imagination, after all. The only one that ever seemed to believe her claims when she was little was her notoriously superstitious grandmother who still regularly made sure her home was witch-proof. That and Uncle Avery, Aunt Lorelei’s late husband. He always claimed that in his youth he had seen a yeti and almost caught the Tooth Fairy in a jar.  
  
Everyone else would humor her, or claim she was simply imagining things or making up stories. That’s not to say Rowan didn’t make up stories often in her youth or have imaginary friends… but there were times that she had sworn she had seen things, and these things had been shrugged off as the results of an overactive imagination.  
  
Maybe she  _was_  crazy, maybe she had  _been_  crazy. It wouldn’t be too surprising, as many who pursued the arts were. The thought was still unsettling, however.  
  
Finding that the snow was beginning to become hypnotic and tiring to watch, Rowan turned the music on her stereo up and hit the skip button until something a bit more up-tempo came on.  
  
Nodding her head along to the music, Rowan began singing along, hoping to forget about the ice from earlier and what may or may not be her deteriorating mental state.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Please tell me we’re almost off the interstate,” Jack said, lying on his stomach on the roof of the jeep with his arms crossed before him. The drive had mostly been uneventful, but there had been a good handful of times since he had arrived where he had managed to prevent her from colliding into another vehicle. He hated to think what might have happened had Jamie not asked him to keep an eye on Rowan.  
  
The sun had begun to go down, which meant being on the roads wasn’t going to get any safer. Jack sighed in relief when Rowan took the next exit, and pulled himself up into a seated position. After passing two traffic lights, they passed a group of large and impressive buildings, snow obscuring the sign proclaiming it some kind of university. Was that where Rowan went to school? Something about it didn’t quite seem like an art school.  
  
Rowan drove on, and just as the sky was claimed by night, she pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. The hum of the jeep’s engine, which he had become quite accustomed to in the past few hours, ceased and things seemed oddly quiet for a moment.  
  
Rowan exited the car, pulling her coat tightly around her and fiddling with her keys until the vehicle was locked. As she walked toward the store, Jack glanced around the area, hoping to find something to occupy his time until she returned.  
  
He smiled, finding a bus stop close by with a small family. A woman sat on the bench, clenching several grocery bags in her hands, while her two children stood nearby attempting to catch snowflakes on their tongues.  
  
Jack flew over, gathering together some snow in his hands and lightly blowing on it before tossing it at the back of one their heads. The boy laughed and turned to see who had thrown the snowball before tugging on his sister’s sleeve and pointing in Jack’s direction.  
  
“Sissy! Look!”  
  
“It’s Jack Frost!”  
  
“He just threw a snowball at me!”  
  
They glanced back at their mother, who was checking something on her phone, perhaps the bus schedule, before kneeling down to gather snow themselves. Very quickly, Jack found himself the main target in this very small snowball fight, able to dodge most of the blows but letting them get a few hits in.  
  
The game didn’t last long, however, before a whistle was heard, drawing attention to the woman with the groceries. The children whined, seeing the bus approaching from down the street and their mother standing before the bench, waiting for them to come back over to her.  
  
They half-heartedly waved goodbye to Jack, who returned the gesture before watching as the bus stopped to allow them to climb on.  
  
Turning back to where Rowan had been parked, he was surprised to find that she was already pulling out of the parking lot, having returned to her car while he had been engaged in the small snow-battle. Kicking off the ground, Jack glided back to Rowan’s car and gently landed on the roof again.  
  
As she was driving much slower, due to the snow and the fact that they were no longer on a major road, Jack decided to chance standing on the car once again, taking in the sights as they went. It seemed like a decent enough area, with a few sketchy neighborhoods here and there, like most places. At a red light, Jack took note of a group of small buildings with strange, snow-covered sculptures on the lawns and a sign that read: Pyle School for the Arts.  
  
“There we go, that looks like an art school,” Jack muttered as the light turned green and Rowan began driving again.   
  


* * *

  
  
“Apartment, sweet apartment,” Rowan mumbled to herself as she parked outside the three-story brick building, pleased to see that the lights inside were still on. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in the dark of a power outage all night.  
  
She circled around to the back of her car, opening it up to retrieve her bags after making sure the single grocery bag she had obtained earlier was securely hanging at her elbow on her right arm. “Okay, now let’s do this in one trip…”  
  
It must have been comical to watch the girl pull on her backpack after fastening the duffle bag she had lugged her laundry in to the back of it and almost falling over in the process. After struggling to regain her balance, she pulled out another bag, this one filled with various toiletries, and slung it over one of her shoulders before sliding her obnoxiously pink lanyard over her neck and fumbling to close the back of her jeep.  
  
“There, now to get inside without falling over,” she said, locking the car and heading for the building slowly, the parking lot covered in snow. Many of the other vehicles were simply car-shaped masses of snow at this point, and it was clear that many people hadn’t bothered trying to leave that day due to the snow.  
  
How nice for them.  
  
“Whoa!” Rowan said as she stumbled forward after underestimating the depth of some snow before her. She fell to her knees and groaned a bit under the weight of her bags. Why did she have to live up to the girly stereotype and over-pack her bags so much?  
  
Slowly she brought herself back to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself before slowly continuing her pursuit for the front lobby of the apartment building. After reaching the doors, she attempted to scrape some of the snow off her boots at the welcome mat before entering. Her cold, red cheeks tingled at the heat inside and the girl at the front desk seemed to be trying not to laugh at Rowan as she struggled with her bags.  
  
“Rowan?” the girl said.  
  
“Yeah?” Rowan said, breathless.  
  
“You, uh, got a package,” the girl said, holding up a box roughly the size of a shoebox.  
  
“Oh right,” she said, remembering her aunt’s earlier comment. She carefully approached the desk and signed the clipboard the girl handed out for her to sign. She took the package in her arm, checking to make sure she wasn’t dropping anything.  
  
“Do you, uh, need any help?” the girl asked, still trying not to laugh.  
  
“I’ve got it. Thanks though,” Rowan said, walking away from the desk.  
  
Rowan hit the call button for the elevator and thankfully didn’t have to wait long before the doors slid open and she stepped inside. She leaned her bags against the railing and pressed the number 3.  
  
It was times like this that she was glad she didn’t live at the other apartment complex she had looked at with nicer rooms but no elevator. There was a  _ding!_  as Rowan reached her floor and the doors slid open again. “Okay, home stretch,” she sighed, walking carefully with her bags to the end of the hall where her apartment waited. She unlocked the door as quickly as she could before stumbling inside and setting down her bags and package at last. She kicked off her snow-covered boots before carefully stepping further into the dark apartment. Feeling along the wall, she soon found the switch for the Christmas lights she had set up along the ceiling and one more switch lit up the small kitchen in the corner.   
  
“Okay, bathroom,” Rowan mumbled, hanging her coat and scarf on the hook on the wall and tossing gloves on the table before disappearing through the nearby door.  
  


* * *

  
  
Jack had fully intended on leaving after making sure Rowan made it back into her apartment safely. That was all Jamie had asked him to do, after all. He had kept an eye on her while she dragged her bags inside and hovered by her window as she put some kind of frozen meal in the oven and unpacked some of her clothes.  
  
The apartment was a cramped, one-room studio, and calling it “cluttered” was an understatement. The walls were covered in sketches, used tracing paper, finished drawings, and photographs. There was a bookshelf filled to capacity, and several books scattered around the apartment, an abused copy of the complete Grimm’s fairy tales being a notable item on Rowan’s bedside table.  
  
Her bed had been hastily made before she had left for Thanksgiving, situated in the corner by the window with soft, thick blankets covering it. Off-white mosquito net hung over the bed in an attempt to separate it from the rest of the room.   
  
In another corner was an easel with a half-finished still life on canvas, a box full of paint, a large container of brushes, and a paint-stained tarp. Taped all around this easel were several reference photos and color pallets.  
  
Near the small couch where Rowan was now sitting and cutting the tape on her package was a tall, thin set of display shelves, covered in what might be some of the creepiest porcelain dolls Jack had ever seen. Each was dressed as a different literary figure, it seemed, and most in this collection seemed to be from tragedies of some kind. There was a Wicked Witch, a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, a Snow White, a Jay Gatsby, a Phantom of the Opera, an Ophelia and Hamlet, and others that were difficult to see from where Jack was at the window. Squinting, he swore he saw a Headless Horseman.  
  
The actual Headless Horseman would be pleased to know how close the design was. Jack wondered if the legend that had laid claim Halloween had ever paid the designers of these dolls a visit.  
  
Rowan opened her package to reveal another one of these dolls, which brought a vibrant smile to her face. Hastily she began removing the doll from its box and set it up on the provided doll stand. Taking her phone from her pocket, she took a picture of the doll and messed with the phone for a moment, seeming to send someone a message with the picture. She then set the doll on the shelves with the others, finally facing the window so Jack could see that it was a representation of Edgar Allan Poe, complete with a raven.  
  
After admiring the doll for a moment, Rowan walked over to the table where she left the grocery bag from earlier and retrieved a box of hair dye from inside. As she retrieved her paint tarp and set it up in her bathroom in preparation of dying her hair, Jack’s eyes wandered back to the table, back to the reason he hadn’t left yet in the first place.  
  
That damned composition book.  
  
She had set it on the table in the midst of unpacking some of her things. It was beaten up and had several other pages stuffed inside of it. Various stickers and doodles covered the front and it was very clearly the notebook that Rowan had been writing in the previous night. The rest of the story she had been telling was inside that notebook.  
  
Rowan pulled on an oversized shirt, splattered in paint and dye before pulling on some latex gloves and mixing the dye that she had taken out of the box. Jack’s eyes darted from Rowan to the book and back. He had to take a look, but he couldn’t just waltz in and take it. Even though he was as good as invisible to someone as old as Rowan, she’d notice the shift in temperature and her notebook moving on its own.  
  
Rowan was adding what looked like purple dye from her medicine cabinet into the dye that had come in the box.  
  
He could try to open the window, send a wind current to bring her notebook outside to him. Jack frowned. No, that was too elaborate. Considering the state of the notebook, Rowan would miss it when it was gone and likely chase after it.  
  
Rowan began spreading burgundy dye, enhanced by the dye she had added, into her hair.  
  
So what else could he do? His best bet was to wait for her to leave the room and sneak inside. But this was a one-room apartment. She was standing in the bathroom now to work with the dye but the door was open. Though, she’d have to rinse it out of her hair at some point.  
  
Rowan piled her dye-soaked hair on top of her head, fastening it in place with a clip before removing her gloves and leaving the bathroom just in time for the oven to beep. Pulling on an oven mitt, she removed a pot pie from the oven and set it on the stove.  
  
Jack watched as she gathered together her dinner and sat at the table, opening the notebook and beginning to scribble more notes inside it between bites. What was she writing? Was it more about the story she had told Jamie, or something else?  
  
Some of the drawings on her wall were character designs. Elaborate costumes, turnarounds, portraits. What other stories had she come up with? What else was in that notebook?  
  
The curiosity was killing Jack. It seemed like forever until she put her dishes away and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Jack waited a moment, and when Rowan didn’t return, summoned the wind. Concentrating strong blasts of air where the lock on the window was, eventually it came unlocked. The wind calmed down and Jack pushed the window open, slipping inside.  
  
Now in the apartment, he could hear the sound of the shower running past the bathroom door. He cautiously approached the table, watching the bathroom door as he went. After being sure that Rowan wasn’t going to leave the bathroom any time soon, he propped his staff against the table and picked up the notebook.  
  
After a moment of hesitation, turning the book in his hands a few times, he began to leaf through it.  
  
The inside cover listed Rowan’s name and several methods to contact her if the notebook were to be lost. The first few pages seemed to have some kind of poetry, with a number of lines scribbled out and various numbers taking note of the meter written in the margins. Along with these verses were doodles of a number of flowers, mostly roses.  
  
As he continued flipping through the book he found outlines for various short stories, from children’s books concepts to darker, more mature themes. There was a sketch of a bored looking girl with a bob cut and blunt bangs, labeled “Shirley in History of American Illustration” with the date it had been drawn.  
  
“‘Danny’s Break-Up Letter, Draft One’,” Jack read the label of the next page he landed on. He let out a whistle as he turned the page. “What is this, five pages?  _Front and back?_  Hate to be Danny.”  
  
Flipping through the next few pages, he stopped when he found what he was looking for, a page labeled “Jack the Pirate notes.” The first few pages weren’t much more than what she had already told Jamie with some notes in the margins on things to expand upon and possibly cut out.  
  
Another page listed possible physical traits for Jack, all of which were crossed out, with an arrow drawn indicating to flip to the next page, which he did. There was a sketch that didn’t look much different than he had when he had been alive and living in Burgess, labeled “basic gist of how Jack looked in a dream I had last night.”  
  
Jack smirked and shook his head in amusement. “Good work, Sandy,” he said, taking a moment to admire the sketch. It had obviously been done in hast, but it was still decent. If he weren’t sure Rowan would notice, he would have torn it out and taken it with him.  
  
There were a few more notes, all written in shorthand that Jack couldn’t entirely make out. Something about the island’s governor and Jack getting rid of his butler to get the position.  
  
One of governor’s maids eventually would play a larger role as well, and there were a few concepts of what she might look like.  
  
But before Jack could read any further, the shower stopped running, and the sound of the shower curtain being pushed aside could be heard. Jack glanced back at the bathroom door at the noise before closing the notebook, setting it back where he’d found it, and grabbing his staff.  
  
He quickly flew through the window and sent a strong gust of wind to force it shut behind him. Landing on the roof of the apartment building, he considered the notes that he had found. It sounded as though the story was going to become even more interesting, and there were still several pages in that notebook he hadn’t seen.  
  
“She has to go to school at some point,” Jack muttered. And as long as she didn’t take the notebook with her… well, he’d certainly have plenty of time to find out more about the story.  
  


* * *

  
  
“What the hell was that?” Rowan said, emerging from the bathroom, wrapped tightly in a towel, after hearing something slam closed. Many of her papers pinned to the wall shuffled slightly, as though settling after being disrupted by a gust of wind.  
  
Rowan approached the window and rose a brow as she examined the lock. “I could have sworn I locked it before I left…” she mumbled, reaching forward to lock it again regardless.  
  
Glancing around, it appeared that nothing in the apartment had been disturbed. She shivered a moment, wondering when it had gotten so cold considering that her heat had been on since shortly after she got back.   
  
Maybe she  _was_  going crazy.


	6. Star-Crossed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, guess who's back on schedule with the chapters? This one came a lot easier for me, not sure why, but I certainly won't question it. Meet Urania and Calliope, two of the Muses. More will be introduced as the story goes along. Also showing up for the first time in this story this chapter are North and Bunnymund! I hope I'm doing them justice. The other Guardians will show up in due time.

_"This is getting old, North.  But I mean, thanks for not using the sack this time, I guess?”_

* * *

 

**Chapter Six: Star-Crossed**

* * *

  
  
Her eyes were large and peculiar, gradating from a dark blue, to a warm violet, and at last to a bright magenta. Long lashes framed these eyes, as well as sparkling eye shadows that mimicked the most beautiful corners of the night sky on the clearest nights.  
  
Her skin was like milk, and appeared to have blue undertones in the light of the moon, which she soaked in with a small smile. She sat on a high branch of a tree in the middle of a quiet, snow-covered forest.   
  
She had a long and slender, sort of boyish, figure, and not a single hair was present on her entire body, from head to toe. She looked almost otherworldly, alien.  
  
Her clothes gave hints to her Earthly origins, consisting of shoes which resembled ballet slippers, tight leggings beneath a leotard with sleeves that came to her elbow, and an elaborate vest. The vest was lined with small ruffles, but what was perhaps the most fascinating part of the vest was the buttons, hand crafted into shapes representing each of the planets, with the two buttons near the top representing the sun and the moon.  
  
The environment was nothing if not tranquil. It seemed as though she wouldn’t prefer to be anywhere but where she was, watching the stars so intently.  
  
Suddenly, however, the stars were not the same. The woman frowned, bringing herself silently to her feet on the branch she was resting on, scanning her eyes across the sky. Stars shifted in a way that was only noticeable to the most trained of eyes.  
  
Her eyes widened as she analyzed the movements; she gasped softly. She braced herself for a moment, bending at the knees.  
  
In the next instant, the woman shot across the sky like a shooting star.  
  
She glided high into the atmosphere effortlessly, her arms flared behind her as she went, the long, ruffled section of fabric on the back of her vest fluttered behind her as she went. Curving sharply, she began her descent back to Earth, soon slowing down enough to land gracefully on a city street. She stood outside a nearly deserted coffee shop, a sign on the door boasting free wifi.  
  
She approached the building, looking through the window and finding just who she was looking for.  
  
Another woman stood behind a man who was typing madly at his laptop computer, her hands gently resting on his shoulders as she watched him work, her blue eyes alert and focused. She had thick, dark brown curls, which were pinned back and out of her face. Her voluptuous curves were draped in a dress adorned with black, iridescent feathers, fading out to what appeared to be black ink stains on a white underskirt.  
  
The bald woman tapped lightly on the window to get the other woman’s attention. She turned at the sound, recognized the first woman, and abandoned the man in order to meet her outside.  
  
The man at the computer noticed none of this, and simply continued typing, his pace slowing but slightly.  
  
“Urania,” the brunette greeted as she exited the coffee shop.  
  
“Calliope,” Urania replied. “How did I know I’d find you at a coffee shop?”  
  
“It’s where the poets tend to reside nowadays,” Calliope responded. “What do you need? I was in the middle of something.”  
  
Urania extended her hand for Calliope to take. “This is more important. It’s the stars.”  
  
A look of worry briefly crossed Calliope’s face before she took Urania’s hand. The two of them shot through the air together until they landed atop a hill outside the city where they could better see the stars. Calliope took a moment to fix the pins in her hair, which had come loose as the wind whipped it about mid-flight.   
  
Still adjusting her hair, she ran her eyes across the sky, furrowing her brow.  
  
“I understand ‘danger’ but what does the rest mean?” she asked, concerned.  
  
“There’s not much more than that, there’s a threat, a threat coming for  _us,_ and soon,” Urania explained.  
  
“But they don’t say what it is?” Calliope said, focusing on the other woman rather than the sky now, her arms now crossed before her chest.  
  
“No, nor what it intends to do,” Urania said, shaking her head. “I came to you because you’re our leader, Calliope, you were the first Muse. I figured that you would know what to do.”  
  
“There’s not much that we  _can_  do until we know what we’re up against,” Calliope said carefully. She paused a moment, mulling over the situation.  
  
“I’ll keep watching the stars, see if they’ll tell me any more, maybe talk to Tsar Lunar,” Urania suggested, visibly uncomfortable at Calliope’s silence. Calliope nodded.  
  
“Yes, yes, I want you to talk to the Man in the Moon, make sure the Guardians will still be on our side when this threat makes itself known. I also want you to see Nicholas and get  _his_ word of the continued alliance,” the eldest muse said, straightening her pose and speaking with authority.  
  
“Are you certain I should speak with North? I know he’s sort of an unspoken second-in-command to Tsar Lunar, but Christmas is right around the corner, I’m sure he’s very busy,” Urania pointed out.  
  
“Well, Toothiana and Sanderson are busy  _every_  night, and Bunny is nervous around us. Unless you would like to try to have a serious conversation with Jack Frost, who, I still can’t believe has earned the title of ‘Guardian’,” Calliope replied, hands placed gently on her hips.  
  
“All right, all right, I’ll talk to Tsar Lunar and then stop to see North,” Urania said. “But what about the rest of  _us_?”  
  
“I’ll track down the others and tell them to be alert and cautious until we learn more,” said Calliope. “Now go, the sooner we solidify our alliance, the better.”  
  
Urania nodded, and without another word, shot off into the air once more.  
  


* * *

  
  
The North Pole was loud and busy. Gifts were being sorted, resorted, unsorted, wrapped, re-wrapped, unwrapped and resorted only to be wrapped and sorted again. Bags of mail were being sorted through and filed away by several yetis, with new bags arriving and being carted around by the elves. There was a room in the far corner containing the master lists, naughty and nice, which had only just begun to be checked the second time around. Not a single soul was standing still, including North, currently fiddling with a conveyer belt that was used when boxing and wrapping the gifts.  
  
“Ha ha ha! There, is fixed,” North said, watching as the conveyer belt began to move again. A group of yetis immediately began setting toys and boxes on top of it, wasting no time.  
  
“North!” came a familiar voice from the main platform by the globe. The old man raised his eyebrows in confusion at the call, walking over to find the over-grown rabbit that had sent it.  
  
“Bunny! What brings you here?” North asked. The Australian looked less than amused as he held up an elf by his hat, coated in several different colors of egg dye.  
  
“One of your elves,” Bunny said, dropping the elf, who landed less than gracefully on the floor, “Got hold of one of your snow globes and was causing trouble at the Warren.  _Again._ ”  
  
North sighed, glaring down at the elf in question, “Go! Get cleaned up and help others at the stables, Christmas is less than a month away, what are you thinking?”  
  
The elf smiled innocently up at North before rushing off to an unknown location where he would presumably wash off the Easter egg dye.  
  
“My apologies, Bunny,” North said, returning his attention to the rabbit.  
  
“You gotta lock those snow globes up, mate. Or put them on higher shelves,” Bunny said, taking a moment to scratch behind his ears.  
  
“I will make note of it, something to do  _after_  Christmas,” North replied, stepping aside as a few elves ran by, chasing a rouge remote control airplane. “I did not expect to see  _two_  Guardians today with my busy schedule.”  
  
“Two of us?” Bunny asked.  
  
“I’m having the Yetis bring Jack in soon. We must talk,” North said, appearing somewhat annoyed at the idea, which surprised Bunny.  
  
“Ooh, is he in trouble? I might have to stick around for this,” Bunny said, leaning against the nearby wall as he grinned.  
  
North rubbed his temples with a bit of a groan. “He has broken into young girl’s apartment, evidentially I must  _explain_  to him this is  _unacceptable.”_  
  
“How young are we talking about?”  
  
“Nineteen.”  
  
Bunny couldn’t help but laugh. “Well! The kid’s stuck as a teenager forever, that’s not really  _too_  surprising.”  
  
“Surprising or not, Jack and I must have a talk,” North said, seemingly much less amused than Bunny was at the situation.  
  
A yeti approached North and began babbling in their odd language, gesturing for the staircase off to the side.  
  
 _“Another_  visitor? What is going on today? Show her in,” North ordered, turning and watching as the Yeti rushed off to get their guest.  
  
Urania walked in behind several yetis, her eyes wandering about the workshop as the others worked diligently to prepare all the gifts. North placed his hands on his hips, eying the Muse as she approached.  
  
"Urania! What brings you here? I am very busy, Christmas is a few weeks away."  
  
"I know it is, North. I wouldn't come here now if it weren't important, I trust you know that," said Urania as the Yetis stepped aside for her to approach North and speak to him directly. She glanced at Bunnymund in the corner, "Hello, Bunny."  
  
"Urania," Bunny greeted with a short nod, though not bothering to move from his place near the wall.  
  
"What is it that is so important, then?" North asked, signing a clipboard that yet another yeti brought over.  
  
"The stars have spoken to me," said the Muse, "A great danger will face the Muses soon. What it is, I am not yet sure. I have already spoken to Tsar Lunar and he has assured me of the Guardians continued alliance. However, Calliope would also like your word, North."  
  
"'Continued Alliance'?" repeated Bunny before North could open his mouth to respond. He seemed slightly outraged at the term. "Where were you when Pitch was trying to wipe us all out?"  
  
"You must understand, Bunnymund," Urania said, "As Toothiana is one of our dearest companions, we wanted to help as soon as her teeth and fairies were stolen from her. But The Man in the Moon forbid it."  
  
"Why?" Bunny demanded.  
  
"Tsar Lunar believed that the situation with Pitch had to be sorted out without our help. It had to unfold the way it did, with you all first growing weaker to grow stronger by the end," Urania explained. "This situation, it's different."  
  
She turned back to North and continued, "This may not be something we can handle on our own."  
  
"Urania," North addressed with a warm smile. "Just as the moon cannot shine without the sun, the Guardians cannot thrive without the Muses. It is you who help make possible the bedtime stories, picture books, tv specials, and films that help keep children believing."  
  
Urania smiled softly at this sentiment, humbled.  
  
"The Guardians will always help the Muses, you have my word," North said, taking Urania's slender, soft hand in his large, calloused one and giving it a firm shake.  
  
"Thank you," Urania said.  
  
"Now, my Yetis should be back with Jack in a moment, you are welcome to stay longer if you wish, but I must deal with him."  
  
"What's going on with Jack?" Urania asked.  
  
"He's in trouble," Bunny said, seemingly giddy at the thought, clearly in better spirits than he was a moment ago. "You should stick around for the lecture, it should be fun."  
  
"Tempting as that may be," Urania said, "Unlike the majority of my ‘sisters,’ I have few qualms with Jack Frost."  
  
"He and I are almost friends now and I  _still_  want to see this," Bunny said with a chuckle. Urania took a seat on the railing surrounding the globe, amused.  
  
Within the next instant, a magic portal opened up and a confused looking Jack Frost came stumbling forward, as if thrown, from within the portal. He was followed shortly by two yetis, who landed far more gracefully than Jack had.  
  
"This is getting old, North," Jack said, pulling himself to his feet. “But I mean, thanks for not using the sack this time, I guess?”  
  
“Is only because the sacks are being cleaned,” North said, clearly unamused. Jack sighed, propping his staff against his shoulder and looking around. The pole was far more active than it had been when he had first visited so many months ago.  
  
“Hey Bunny,” Jack said, spying the Easter spirit in the corner. “Is this another meeting?”  
  
Bunny laughed a bit, shaking his head. “Not quite.”  
  
Jack furrowed his brow in confusion, turning to find Urania, someone he hadn’t seen for a while, sitting on the nearby railing.  
  
“This must be important if you’re here,” he said.  
  
“Hello to you, too, Jack,” Urania replied. “Unfortunately, I have nothing to do with your lecture.”  
  
“Lecture?” Jack said, turning his attention back to North, who still looked annoyed about something. “Is this about the elves? I know they were banged up when I returned them, but-”  
  
“Is not about the elves,” North said.  
  
“Is it about the Easter Egg Grenades, is that why Bunny’s here?”   
  
“I’m here because one of North’s elves got into the Warren and was assaulting my dyes.  _Again_. But I’m more than happy to join in on the lecture. What was it you were saying about my grenades?” Bunny said, narrowing his eyes at the winter spirit.  
  
“Nothing, hypotheticals and all that,” Jack said quickly, waving off the question with his hand.  
  
“I’m very disappointed in you, Jack,” North finally said, pointing at Jack with his large hands as if to clarify that it was the younger Guardian he was speaking to.  
  
“Before I dig myself into a deeper hole I’m going to ask what I did,” Jack replied, seemingly unfazed by this comment.  
  
“For years you have been on naughty list for tricks and pranks, but now, now you are breaking law, Jack!”   
  
“Wait, what?” said a very confused Jack.  
  
“Does breaking into Rowan Sawyer’s apartment and going through her things ring bells?” North asked.  
  
“Become a Peeping Tom, have we?” Bunny interjected, clearly very much amused at the idea. “Honestly surprised it took you this long, Mate. You’ve been eighteen for, what, three hundred years?”  
  
“Being teenager is no excuse,” North said immediately.  
  
“Whoa,  _whoa!_  I have not been doing  _that_ ,” Jack said, before stopping short and seeming to consider something.  
  
Why on earth hadn’t that crossed his mind before?  
  
“Oh no, now you’re going to start, aren’t you?” Bunny said, his face dropping.  
  
“I didn’t say anything,” Jack said with a shrug.  
  
“If you are not spying on young lady, then what are you doing in her apartment?” North demanded.  
  
“I was just,” Jack said, pausing, suddenly feeling a bit silly about the whole thing now that he’d been caught and had to explain it. “Going through her drawings, her stories. She has a lot of really great ones.”  
  
He took a moment to straighten his stance, somewhat smug. “Even started one about a boy named Jack and his misadventures.”  
  
“All right, Peter Pan,” Bunny said. “You still can’t go breaking into homes like that.”  
  
“Why not?” Jack said, propping his staff on the floor and leaning against it as he spoke. “North does it every year on Christmas Eve.”  
  
“Is not the same thing!” North said immediately, insulted.  
  
“How?” Jack asked.  
  
“Children are expecting me, they make preparations so I may come in an out easily. I enter houses to leave gifts, you enter apartment to go through pretty young lady's things.”  
  
“You guys keep talking like I'm shuffling through her underwear drawer or something,” Jack said, prompting North to blush and Bunny to shift uncomfortably. Urania could be heard chuckling at their reactions from her place at the railing.  
  
“Look, Jack, regardless of what you were doing, it’s not appropriate for you to be breaking into her apartment just because she can’t see you,” Bunny finally said.  
  
“There are certain boundaries that should not be crossed,” North added. “Should be setting good example for the children of the world. After all, their continued belief in you is what your powers rely on now.”  
  
Jack nodded, glancing away as he rolled his eyes, very much annoyed.  
  
“Do not roll eyes at me, Jack,” North said.  
  
Hoping to change the subject, Jack said, “So, what’s Urania doing here, then?”  
  
“According to the stars,” Urania said, “The Muses are in danger. I’m here to make sure the alliance between the Guardians and the Muses is still in place and strong.”  
  
“Alliance? Wait, then where were you guys around Easter?” Jack asked.  
  
“That’s what I asked,” Bunny said.  
  
“As I’ve explained to Bunnymund,” Urania said, casting a slightly annoyed glance toward the Guardian in question, “We were instructed by the Man in the Moon not to interfere with the conflict between the Guardians and Pitch Black.”  
  
“Does Manny seriously talk to everyone  _except_  me?” Jack said. “In three hundred years he’s spoken to me  _twice_.”  
  
“He’s not a man of many words,” Urania said, hoping to ease Jack’s mind a bit.  
  
“What is it that’s putting you guys in danger, then? Book stores going out of business?” Jack asked, beginning to twirl his staff about in his hand like a baton.  
  
“They don’t know yet,” North said.  
  
"So how are we supposed to help when you don't even know what's putting you in danger?" Jack asked.  
  
"For now," Urania said, "We wait. We keep aware and cautious. The threat will make itself known soon enough."  
  
“Simple enough plan,” Jack said. “Are you sure that the other Muses want  _my_  help, though? Most of them don’t really, well, _like_  me. And I’m not sure what I did.”  
  
“Well, you’re not very charming,” Bunny pointed out. Jack glared at the rabbit, who simply smiled and shrugged.   
  
“Well, Melpomene-” Urania started.  
  
“I now why  _she_  doesn’t like me,” Jack mumbled, trying to shake the image of that Muse in particular from his mind.  
  
“I was going to say she doesn’t really like  _anyone_  who, well,  _smiles,”_  Urania said. “As far as the rest of them, go, well, while the Guardians follow the moon, we follow the sun. Truthfully, I think they don't like you much because during the winter, the sun is out less.”  
  
"That is  _not my fault,"_  Jack said defensively. "That is  _all_  Mother Nature, they can direct their complaints to her."  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Urania said, standing up from her place on the railing. “I should be going, though, see if there are any more clues in sky.”  
  
“Good luck, Urania, keep us posted,” North said.  
  
“I certainly will. I hope you all have a pleasant rest of your day,” Urania said before turning her heal and walking with the yetis that had escorted her inside.  
  
“I’d better be off too, let you get back to your preparations,” Bunny said, tapping the floor twice with his foot and disappearing into the tunnel that appeared.  
  
North turned to where Jack had been standing, about to say something else to the boy but found that he was no longer there. North scratched his head in confusion, glancing around the area and finding no trace of him.  
  
“Jack Frost, you are quite a handful,” he muttered before returning to his work.


	7. Bed Of Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a bit shorter than the others have been recently, but the next one is going to be particularly long to make up for it! Jack and Bunny have a talk and Jack attempts to make up for some things.

_“We’re not telling you these things to ruin your fun or antagonize you.  We’re not against you, you’re not all alone anymore!  You don’t have to be so defensive and ridiculous, all of the boundaries are for your own good!”_

* * *

 

**Chapter Seven: Bed of Roses**

* * *

  
  
“What are you doing here?” Bunny asked as Jack settled himself atop one of his large egg sculptures.  
  
“I went after you through the tunnel,” Jack said with a shrug as the buck made his way over to a basket he’d abandoned earlier to go to North’s workshop. Jack smiled softly, finding that Bunny was in the middle of tending to the plants in his warren, the basket full of small flowers waiting to be planted.  
  
“Okay, but  _why?_  I know Easter’s a few months away but I’m  _busy,”_  Bunny said, carefully placing one of the small sprouts into the ground.  
  
“It seemed like the quickest way to get out of there, didn’t realize I’d be interrupting your gardening,” Jack said with a small laugh.  
  
“What’s wrong with gardening?” Bunny replied, narrowing his eyes at Jack as though daring him to say something against his hobby.  
  
“Nothing, nothing,” Jack said, his smile tight-lipped to keep from laughing again. “I just figured all the plants here just kind of, you know,  _happened_. Never pictured  _you_  planting them all.”  
  
“Hmph,” was Bunny’s only reply as he continued to focus on his flowers, carefully arranging them in the area he had designated for them.  
  
“Is North like that a lot?” Jack asked suddenly.  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Acting like he’s my father or something, I half expected him to ground me,” Jack said, leaving his space from on top of the egg sculpture and hovering low to the ground, examining the existing plants as he went.  
  
“Maybe,” Bunny said, gently patting the soil before him, “If you didn’t act like a child, he wouldn’t treat you like one.”  
  
 _“How_  am I acting like a child?” Jack asked, stopping to examine a rose bush, featuring purple roses whose petals faded out to blue toward the ends. He recalled the sketches of roses that had been in Rowan’s notebook.  
  
“Breaking into someone’s apartment because of a  _story?_  That’s only a little better than someone having triple-dog dared you to do it,” Bunny said.  
  
“I didn’t steal anything, I didn’t break anything, she doesn’t even know I was ever there,” Jack said. He turned back to Bunny and gestured back to the rose bush. “What do you want for some of those?”  
  
“What for?” Bunny asked.  
  
“Well,  _apparently_  it’s okay to break into someone’s home if you leave gifts,” Jack said.  
  
“So you want to leave her some of  _my_  roses.”  
  
“They’re pretty,” Jack said simply. “And she had drawn some in her notebook I looked through.”  
  
“How’d you even find this girl anyway?” Bunny asked, completely ignoring his sprouts now and watching Jack in confusion.  
  
“She’s Jamie’s cousin, he asked me to make sure she drove home safe. The other night he had me listen in while she told him a bedtime story. I wanted to know what happened next since she never actually  _finished_  telling the story,” Jack explained. “So, can I have the roses or not?”  
  
“If I say no, you’re just going to come back and take them, aren’t you? I have to trim this anyway, you can’t just pick them all willy-nilly,” Bunny said, taking a pair of pruners from his basket and approaching Jack and the rose bush.  
  
“I’m surprised you’re going along with this,” Jack said.  
  
“I’m not condoning you breaking into whatsername’s apartment,” Bunny said at once, trimming the roses with expertise. “But there’s no reason she shouldn’t get something nice to make up for it.”  
  
“Think this’ll get North off my back about it?”  
  
“Nope,” Bunny said, taking the roses back to his basket, where he fumbled around a moment until he found a ribbon to bundle them together with. Jack almost made a comment about Bunny having ribbon on hand in his basket but decided against it. “And Jack, there’s something you should know.”  
  
“What’s that?” he said.  
  
Bunny met Jack’s eyes and spoke in an entirely serious manner, which was sort of comical when one stopped to remember that he was a giant rabbit holding a bouquet of roses. “Courting a mortal is a terrible idea. It’s never  _not_  a terrible idea.”  
  
“What?” Jack said, surprised at both the statement and the fact that Bunny was still using words like  _courting_. It was the twenty-first century, after all. “I’m not ‘ _courting’_  her, the roses are a completely platonic thing.”  
  
Bunny raised his brow skeptically in response.  
  
“Why would I try to get a girl that can’t even see me?” Jack said.  
  
“I’m just saying, mate, nothing good comes out of it. In fact, you really shouldn’t even be spending so much time with Jamie Bennett,” Bunny said, handing Jack the finished bouquet. Jack swore under his breath as he snagged his hand on one of the thorns, accidentally icing the roses in the process.  
  
“Jamie-” Jack started, examining the finger that had been pricked by the thorns.  
  
“Is a great kid, he really is, but that’s just it,” Bunny said, shaking his head slightly as he watched the edges of the roses freeze. “He’s a mortal, he’s going to grow up, he’s going to die one day, Jack. So is his cousin, so is every other mortal that you pal around with.”  
  
“You think I don’t know that?” Jack said. It was something he didn’t like to think about much, the fact that the first person to ever see him was going to die one day.  
  
“I  _think_  you try to forget about it, but there’s only so long you can do that. It’s for your own good that you don’t get attached, Jack,” Bunny said. “Ask North, if you don’t want to take my word for it.”  
  
“I’ve spent the past three hundred years just watching, Bunny,” Jack said. “I don’t want to forget what it’s like to hang out with kids, I don’t want to hide away like the rest of you. It works for you guys, that’s great, but it’s just not how I operate.”  
  
“Talk to North, seriously,” Bunny said. “And don’t get attached to this girl.”  
  
“North may like to  _act_  like he’s my father, but at the end of the day I made it centuries without any of you there to tell me what to do,” said Jack defensively.  
  
“We’re not telling you these things to ruin your fun or antagonize you,” Bunny explained, eyes narrowing and patience growing thin. “We’re not against you, you’re not all alone anymore! You don’t have to be so defensive and ridiculous, all of the boundaries are for your own good!”  
  
“Look, I appreciate that you guys are around, I do, but I’m not your responsibility and I can run my own life,” Jack replied. “I may not have as many centuries under my belt as the rest of you but I’m not naïve. I don’t need someone to hold my hand and tell me who to be friends with. Not that Rowan and I are friends  _anyway_. I’m not going to get attached to her, and I have no intentions to try to win her affections or something. I’m only around for the stories, it’s that simple.”  
  
“Human relations are never that simple,” Bunny pointed out.  
  
“Well, good thing I’m not human then. I’ll see you around, Cottontail, thanks for the weeds,” Jack said, flying off in the direction of the tunnel leading to North America.

* * *

  
  
“It wouldn’t start at all, huh? Guessing you guys need a ride, then?” Rowan said, her cell phone wedged between her ear and shoulder as she buttoned her dark navy pea coat.  
  
“Okay, well I haven’t even been outside yet so we’re definitely gonna be late, I still have to dig  _my_  car out of the snow and everything,” she said, grabbing her now nearly finished painting from the easel with one hand and her tool box of paints with the other. “Yeah, send him an email, how much is he gonna really penalize us, right? I’ll be surprised if half the class even shows up within the first  _hour_  of class with all the snow. Oh!  _Don’t forget the flash drive_  so we can work on the history presentation at lunch.”  
  
Rowan carefully slipped her canvas from one hand to the other before opening the front door of her apartment. “Right? Mondays aren’t even  _trying_  anymore… Okay, I’ll see you in a few, bye,” Rowan said, taking her phone from her shoulder in order to end the call, stopping short before she stepped into the hallway.  
  
Lying on the floor before her was a bouquet of roses, violet in color, fading out to blue. They were covered in a sparkling layer of frost.  
  
Setting down her paint box and canvas, Rowan glanced down the hall to see if anyone else was around that might have left the flowers. Finding that she was alone, she kneeled down and carefully took the bouquet in her hands, examining it for a tag of any kind. She found none.  
  
“How peculiar,” Rowan whispered, bringing the flowers inside and pulling a tall glass out of the cabinet to use as a vase. She filled the glass before setting the roses carefully inside, careful to keep the ribbon binding them together from getting wet.   
  
Who could have possibly sent them? She had never received flowers from someone who wasn’t her own father trying to cheer her up on a lonely Valentine’s Day. She’d never received roses, despite them being her favorite, and these roses served only to confuse her. It was not their presence alone that did it, but rather the coloring. She was almost certain that roses this color did not exist in nature, and yet, here they were.  
  
After taking a quick snapshot with her phone, she returned to her things by the door, picking them up once more before leaving the apartment.  
  
She would have time to ponder the flowers and where they came from when she wasn’t running late.

* * *

  
  
“Maybe Danny sent them,” said the very tall, slim girl setting up her painting at the easel beside Rowan’s. Rowan made a face as she re-arranged her paint, brushes, and water, her canvas already settled on the easel.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Rowan said. The other girl plopped down in the nearby chair and rummaged through a box of brushes.  
  
“Nicolette was saying he’s been particularly annoying ever since you dumped him,” the other girl pointed out, tucking some of her short black hair behind her ear.  
  
Rowan groaned a little. “I’m so glad he doesn’t go to school here, I can’t imagine having classes with him after that.”  
  
“Maybe the roses are an attempt to win you back.”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Rowan said, taking a very small brush from her box. “Why would he wait so long to leave me the roses? And not even leave a note or stick around to make sure I  _knew_  he was the one that left them?”  
  
“True, he’d make sure he was there so you knew  _just_  who to thank,” the other girl said, ignoring her painting for now.  
  
“Pretty much. Did you bring any masking tape? I forgot mine.”  
  
The other girl dug through her bag and soon produced a roll of bright white tape, with the name “Shirley Houben” scribbled on the side in permanent marker.  
  
“Thank you,” Rowan said, taking the roll from Shirley and beginning to tape her reference photos onto the side of the easel and beside her actual still life.  
  
“No problem, I’m going to steal some of your black paint in a minute here,” Shirley said with a bit of a shrug, leaning back in her seat.  _“Maybe_  the flowers are an early birthday gift. Which, by the way, Adam and I are taking you out for dinner, no arguments.”  
  
“No arguments,” Rowan repeated with a small laugh, handing Shirley her tape back. “Maybe they are, but still, who could have left them?”  
  
“Secret admirer?”  
  
“Without a sappy love note? How disappointing.”  
  
“Maybe,” Shirley said, stroking an imaginary beard as she pondered. Rowan dipped her small brush into her paint to begin working. She had only fine details left to complete on her piece. “Someone did something to piss you off and those are sad apology flowers.”  
  
“I can’t think of anyone who has both pissed me off and would do that,” Rowan said.  
  
“Shirley, Rowan,” said an older man in a paint-stained dress shirt and jeans as he walked up behind the two. “It’s the last class to work on these. Less talking, more painting.”  
  
“Yeah, Rowan, stop talking so much, jeez,” Shirley said sarcastically, turning back to her easel.  
  
“Yeah, okay, of the two of us, who  _always_  makes their deadlines and who  _mostly_  makes their deadlines, Shirley dear?”  
  
“I’m no longer talking to you, you’re a bad influence,” Shirley said simply. Their professor rolled his eyes at the pair, walking away after a short moment. At least the girls were  _painting_  in addition to their back and forth now.

* * *

  
  
Jack sat atop one of the small buildings on the small campus, watching as students shuffled here and there with various projects in hand. Class being in session, however, didn’t stop many students from venturing outside to construct snow sculptures. Some professors even stopped to join them.  
  
There were a few generic snowmen, adorned in thrift store glasses and mustaches made of stiff and broken brushes. Also present on the grounds, however, was a cat wearing a bowtie and monocle, a reclining nude woman, a gaming console, and several representations of genitalia, all crafted lovingly in the snow.  
  
“Why don’t I hang out at art schools more often?” Jack said with a laugh as he took in the sights. Rowan and another girl soon emerged from the nearby building, chattering away as they wandered in the direction of the largest building on campus (which still was not so large). They took their time, stopping to examine many of the sculptures along the way.  
  
Jack furrowed his brow as Rowan leaned in and whispered something to the other girl. The other girl glanced toward the building Jack sat upon, confused, before shaking her head and mumbling something back to Rowan. Rowan whispered some more before the other girl took Rowan’s head in her hands.  
  
“Finals are messing with your head!” she said loudly, laughing as Rowan sighed, seeming frustrated. The girl linked arms with her as they began walking again. “Let’s just go get coffee, everything will make sense again, I promise.”  
  
Jack pulled himself to his feet as the girls passed. He remembered watching Rowan work diligently on several projects over the weekend. He had been waiting for opportunities to flip through her notebook again, and had gotten few while she worked. He wasn’t entirely surprised that she seemed to be stressing herself out.  
  
Now, though, Jack took note that Rowan was stressing herself out  _on campus._  Not in her apartment, as she had done the entire weekend. He smiled to himself as she and the other girl finally entered the large building in the distance. Perhaps it was time to take a trip to Rowan’s apartment.   
  
Maybe she had left her notebook behind as he had hoped.


	8. A Strange Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of kicked my ass. It was one of the first ones I had thought up for this story, and I edited it quite a bit before I was happy with it. This is one of the more important plot points that needed to happen for the story (I mean, obviously), so I'm glad it finally happened! Let me know what you think!

_Jack quickly took another step back and weakly said, “You know, uh, I’m not sure if that’ll even work on me or not.”_

_“Let’s find out together.”_

* * *

**Chapter Eight: A Strange Beginning**

* * *

  
  
_“Jack was utterly cornered as the maid listed off every terrible thing that he had done, a fire in her eyes as she accused him, the pair still cramped in the hall closet and speaking in whispers,”_  Jack read aloud, leaning back in one of Rowan’s dining room chairs, her battered notebook in his lap. “ _‘Just how stupid do you think I am?’ she demanded at last, her immaculate hair falling from place. ‘Did you truly think you could just take a position here, in the house I essentially run, and rob this family without me finding out? You must think you’re so clever.’ Jack opened his mouth to respond but Miss Gates’ gaze warned him against it.”_  
  
Jack turned the page, finding that the passage he’d been reading had come to an abrupt end, and he had once again stumbled upon nothing but notes and shorthand. He sighed, letting the front legs of the chair hit the ground as he set the notebook back on the table. Miss Gates, the maid, was proving to be a fascinating character with lots of spunk. He wanted nothing more than to know what she and the character, Jack, were going to do next.  
  
He stuffed his hands in his front pocket, glancing around the apartment he knew very well by now. He wished he could say that it was the first time he had slipped in since that night he had followed Rowan home. The truth was that he had managed his way inside several times as the school week progressed, though he usually didn’t stay long. However, today was the first day that Rowan had left her notebook behind, the first time he’d gotten to read her new ideas since his initial break-in.  
  
Standing up at last, Jack wandered over to the kitchen counter where the roses he’d left her a few days earlier still sat. They were still in the same state as when he’d left them: still the same vibrant colors, still in bloom, and most importantly, still covered in a layer of frost that had failed to melt yet. He’d seen Rowan take a picture of the roses every morning before she left for class.  
  
She seemed to have liked the roses, and Jack had wasted little time using them as a means to justify further break-ins. Lightly touching one of the petals, Jack began to wonder just how long it would be before North would drag him back to the North Pole for another lecture. Half the reason he kept coming back was to prove a point that North and Bunny  _couldn’t_  keep telling him what to do.   
  
When Rowan had taken her notebook with her the past few days, he had lingered for only short periods, browsing through her books and the drawings pinned to her wall. As long as he was in the apartment, even briefly, he was proving North’s lack of control.  
  
It was dark outside, and Jack had closed Rowan’s window earlier when he realized that leaving it open caused the heat to work overtime. The heat was already kicking into higher gears from him simply being in the apartment, he dared not make the apartment even more uncomfortably warm.   
  
He sighed, watching the snow outside hit the window. Rowan would likely be home soon, which meant he should probably leave. The cool temperatures he caused would do nothing but confuse her and he was sure he’d managed to do enough of that in the past few days with each time he had the wind open and close her window. Not to mention the still-frozen roses.  
  
As though on cue, the sound of a key sliding into the lock on the front door filled the apartment. Jack turned, startled at the sound, having never been in the apartment when Rowan returned home before. He had been certain he still had more time before she arrived.  
  
He slowly crept back toward the window, eyes fixed on the door as it began to open. He would have to wait for, or create, some kind of distraction so that he could get the window open again and leave, he decided.  
  
He turned his attention to the window, stepping atop the bookcase directly below it as the door swung the rest of the way open.  
  
“Hey!”   
  
Jack froze in place, turning quickly to find Rowan pulling something from her backpack and hastily pointing it directly at him. A crackling, electronic sound emitted from the device as a string of electricity danced at the end.  
  
However, this was not what had Jack’s attention at that moment, but rather, the fact that Rowan’s wide, scared eyes were staring directly into his.  
  
“What are you doing here!?” she demanded after Jack failed to react, the taser still aimed directly at him.  
  
“You can see me?” Jack said softly, watching her in confusion. No human over the age of  _twelve_  had ever acknowledged him. It simply didn’t make any sense for her to be looking and speaking directly to him. He couldn’t help but hover a few inches above the shelves he stood on and approach her slowly in curiosity.  
  
This only caused Rowan to jump in surprise and take several steps back, nearly dropping the taser as she went. Her eyes darted between his face and his feet, which were very clearly not touching the ground.  
  
“… Look, I don’t want to harm you, Ghost,” Rowan said quickly, shutting off the taser and clumsily setting it on the counter behind her. She rose shaking hands in front of her to display that she was now very much unarmed. “I just want to peacefully coexist without any curses or hauntings, or-”  
  
“Ghost?” Jack repeated, cutting her off. He was still very much confused about pretty much everything that had happened since she entered the apartment. The shock and fear she displayed confused him the most, as whenever a  _child_  saw him, they were usually pleased, excited.  
  
He wasn’t sure how to react to someone who was afraid of him.  
  
“Is ‘ghost’ not politically correct?” she said quickly, still visibly shaken by his presence. He lowered himself to the ground, hoping it would calm her nerves a bit. “Would you prefer ‘Spirit?’ ‘Apparition-American,’ maybe?”  
  
“Calm down, calm down,” Jack said, reaching a hand out to her, which she quickly backed away from until she was up against the counter. He set his hand back down. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be, all he knew was that he wanted her to calm down and realize he wasn’t a threat. “I’m not a ghost.”  
  
“You’re not?” Rowan said. For a moment she seemed conflicted over this information but quickly picked up the taser again, pointing it at Jack as she had earlier. Jack put his own hands up as she had done moments before, dropping his staff to the ground in the process. He suddenly regretted telling her he was not a ghost. It was supposed to make her less fearful, not prompt her to pick up her weapon again. “Well then what  _are you?_  Because... because I keep seeing you  _everywhere_  but when I point you out to anyone else they never  _see_  you. ‘Oh, Rowan, finals are getting to you.’ ‘Rowan, are you getting enough sleep?’ I thought they were messing with me at first but obviously they’re not.”  
  
“Hey there’s no need for the taser,” Jack said. “They can’t see me because they don’t believe. Honestly I’m surprised that you can see me, no one your age has  _ever_  seen me.”  
  
“They ‘don’t believe’?” Rowan repeated, not lowering her taser. “What do you mean? Don’t believe in  _what?_  Why are you in my apartment and why do I keep seeing you everywhere?”  
  
“One question at a time, huh?” Jack said, lowering his hands to his sides, eyes still fixed on hers. “To see me, you have to believe in  _me_. You have to believe in the Guardians.”  
  
“The Guardians? So, what, are you some kind of angel or something?” she asked. Despite the tense situation, Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the implication, which served only to puzzle Rowan more, her brows furrowing.   
  
“I’m gonna have to tell Bunny that one later. No, I’m not an angel,” Jack said, still chuckling slightly.  
  
“Well then what the hell is a Guardian?” Rowan demanded, seeming to lose patience as this conversation continued and Jack felt the need to laugh at her angel comment.  
  
“The legends from childhood. We, well,  _guard_  childhood and protect children. Hence, Guardians,” Jack explained.  
  
“Legends from childhood? What, like Santa Claus?” the girl asked, skepticism clear on her face.  
  
“Yep,” Jack said, glancing briefly at his staff. He wanted to pick it up off the ground, but didn’t want to spook Rowan in the process. He felt like she likely wouldn’t do anything with her weapon but didn’t want to give her any more reason to think she needed it.  
  
As soon as she calmed down he’d figure out what to do about the fact that she could see him. It wasn’t like when Jamie finally saw him; everything was on edge now.  
  
“And the ‘Bunny’ you just mentioned… the Easter Bunny?” she clarified.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“And that makes you…?”  
  
“Jack Frost.”  
  
Rowan lowered her hand with the taser at last, nodding slowly and beginning to turn away from Jack as she raised her other hand to her forehead. She leaned back against the counter once more.  
  
“Jack Frost… I’ve gone completely bonkers,” she mumbled.  
  
“No, no, you haven’t,” Jack said, hoping to reassure her. Granted, this was the first conversation he’d had with the girl, for all he knew, she  _was_  completely insane. She was pursuing the arts, after all.  
  
For the time being, however, Jack decided to operate under the assumption that she was  _not_  insane. Just understandably baffled.  
  
“I feel like that’s just what a hallucination would say,” Rowan said, starting to look a bit pale as the conversation continued, her eyes fixed on the floor directly in front of her.  
  
“What makes you think I’m a hallucination?”  
  
 _“Jack Frost_  is in my apartment, after I’ve seen him lurking around since I was in Burgess-”  
  
 _“That_  long?” Stealth clearly was not Jack’s strong suit. Not that he had been trying to hide; as far as he was concerned, up until a few minutes ago at least, Rowan couldn’t see him.  
  
“-and no one else I’ve pointed him out to has seen him. And now, now he’s telling me that he’s best friends forever with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.  _How is this not a hallucination?_  Next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you play poker with the Sandman.”  
  
“Bunnymund and I are barely getting into ‘friends’ territory. North… well, he and I go back and forth, definitely not shopping for friendship bracelets right now. And I don’t even know if Sandy  _plays_  poker,” Jack said, as if his relationship with the other Guardians was the most problematic part of Rowan’s statement.   
  
“And let me guess, you’re dating the Tooth Fairy?” she said, pulling her gaze up from the floor and meeting his yet again.  
  
Jack could feel himself blush slightly at the implication (which he was surprised he was still able to do, when was the last time he had been embarrassed enough to actually  _blush?)_. “Tooth? Nah, I think she has a crush on my teeth but that’s about it.”  
  
Rowan rubbed her temples with her free hand for a moment. “I’ve gone insane. This is insanity.”  
  
“Hey, hey!” Jack said, leaning down and picking up his staff at last. He approached Rowan slowly. She could  _see_  him, which meant she believed in him. The last thing he wanted was for her to talk herself out of believing. “I’m  _not_  a hallucination… and I’ll prove it.”  
  
Rowan lowered her hand from her face and looked up just in time for snow to begin to fall inside the small apartment, dancing gracefully in a downward spiral before her face. With a chill, a few snowflakes landed on her cheeks and nose.  
  
“This could be a really elaborate hallucination,” she mumbled.  
  
“But you feel the cold, right?” Jack said, standing no more than two feet away from her now.  
  
“Right,” she mumbled, meeting his eyes again. “So, my friends can’t see you because they don’t believe in you, right?”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Well I don’t think I ever sat down and thought to myself, ‘Yes, Jack Frost, he  _definitely_  exists.”  
  
“Hey I’m just as confused as you are,” Jack assured her, offering her a smile in the hopes that she might see that he was being sincere. At least her weapon was down and she seemed less fearful now. As long as things continued like this, Jack could figure out what to do about this new believer. “Like I said earlier, I’ve never met someone your age who can see me. But, you’re related to Jamie and-”  
  
“How do you know Jamie?” she asked suspiciously, her stance straightening as she re-adjusted her grip on the taser in her hand. At this point, Jack made the snow stop falling.   
  
“He was my first believer, we’re friends,” Jack explained. “Where do you think he came up with the name for the character in your story?”  
  
“What does me being related to him have to do with me being able to see you?”  
  
“Well, if you wouldn’t  _interrupt_  me. Jamie believes harder than any kid I’ve met. Maybe it’s the same for you,” he said.  
  
“I’ll interrupt you all I want, this is  _my_  apartment, and you have yet to actually explain why you’re here, Mr. Frost,” Rowan said, crossing her arms and raising her brow expectantly.  
  
“Right, that,” Jack said. Well, this was awkward. She was never supposed to  _see_  him; she was never supposed to know that he was ever there. No harm, no foul.  
  
But now she knew. She knew he’d been lurking around (she’d seen him since  _Burgess_  for crying out loud) and she knew he’d broken in at least this time.  
  
And what was worse? Jack actually felt sort of guilty about it. He made a mental note to never admit that to North.  
  
“Well?” she demanded when he remained quiet too long for her liking.  
  
“Okay, so back when you were visiting Jamie, he asked me to come listen in on the story you were telling him because he insisted your stories were  _the best_. I was skeptical, of course, but I went anyway, and truth be told, I’ve been curious about the story ever since. So, I’ve been sneaking in here to find out more about it. I’m sorry,” Jack said quickly, deciding that telling the truth, and hastily, was likely his best option right now.  
  
“This isn’t the first time you’ve been in here!?” she nearly shrieked, her eyes wide in a mixture of surprise and rage. “You’ve _been_  breaking into my apartment? For  _how long?”_  
  
“Just a couple days,” Jack said, smiling sheepishly. So far, Rowan had gone from fear, to confusion, and was now at a place full of anger. This was certainly not what usually happened when he encountered a believer. He briefly wondered if anything like this had happened to the other Guradians.  
  
Were believers Rowan’s age common? Something told him they weren’t, and that both excited and intrigued him.  
  
“That is  _so not okay!”_  Rowan hissed, closing some of the distance between herself and Jack in her rage. Jack leaned away. Even though in the back of his mind he still knew she was simply a person, a mortal human being with no abilities that could match him in a fight, her tone of voice was enough to make him nervous.  
  
“Well-“  
  
“Who do you think you are?” she demanded, taking another step forward, causing him to take a step back. “What, just because most people can’t see you, that gives you the right to just waltz into my apartment any time you want?”  
  
“That’s not  _exactly_ -”  
  
“Not exactly  _what?_  You said you were sorry but are you really? Or are you just saying that because you were caught? What the hell kind of person is my little cousin palling around with? Are you even a person? Do you  _have_  any morals, any sense of right and wrong?”  
  
“Hey-!”  
  
“No, I’m talking, you’re listening,” Rowan said. Jack found himself closing his mouth despite his desire to defend himself. The fact that she could see him was no longer on his mind so much as the fact that she was now lecturing him as North had attempted to days earlier. It was sort of annoying to be receiving the same speech he’d already heard before, but it would be a lie to say that Rowan was not far more justified in delivering it. “How did you know when I would be gone so that you could break in? Have you been spying on me? Is that why I keep seeing you in the corner of my eye?”  
  
“I wouldn’t call it  _spying_  really-”  
  
“Of course you wouldn’t. I’m sure you don’t think that what you’ve done is wrong at all, or why would you continue to do it?” To piss North off. To prove a point. To read more of the story about the pirate with terrible luck.  
  
None of those seemed good enough to say out loud.  
  
 _Jack was utterly cornered as the girl listed off every terrible thing that he had done, a fire in her eyes as she accused him._  
  
“I have a right to privacy!” Rowan said, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. Jack watched as her hand continued to prod at him, only confirming further that she believed in him; she could touch him. As he watched her hand, he suddenly found himself wondering if he could craft a hand out of ice, with long slender fingers and two stars on the wrist. He shook his head of the thought. Now was not the time to consider ice sculptures. “I should be able to sleep, change my clothes, and- and- I don’t know,  _pluck my eyebrows_ , in my own apartment without worrying that some immortal son of a bitch is going to be  _spying on me_  the whole time!”  
  
“I didn’t watch you change!” Jack said, managing to get a sentence in edgewise at last. He took her hand in his and moved it from his chest. She quickly pulled her hand away, seeming surprised at the temperature. “And come on, the eyebrow plucking wasn’t even that bad. Now, when you were trying to take care of your nose hairs,  _that_  was funny.”  
  
Rowan, however, didn’t seem to think this was funny at all, and with her face strictly expressing non-amusement she lifted the taser in her left hand again, hitting the switch that brought it to life.  
  
Jack quickly took another step back and weakly said, “You know, uh, I’m not sure if that’ll even  _work_  on me or not.”  
  
“Let’s find out together,” Rowan said, and for a moment Jack was sure it was simply a threat. After all, she had the device in her hand for most of their conversation and had yet to actually use it.  
  
However, in the next instant Jack jolted uncontrollably as electricity pulsed through his chilled veins. He could hear small shards of ice falling to the floor after erratically being conjured up by his staff in response to his sudden change in body language. The extreme discomfort lasted little more than a few seconds before Rowan pulled the device away and Jack lost his balance, gripping his staff tightly. He barely managed not to fall.  
  
“Okay, okay!” Jack said, one hand moving from the staff and over the area on his chest where she had placed the device as he slowly pulled himself back upright. He felt a strange tingling throughout his being and was visibly shaken as he watched the girl cautiously. “You’re right! Okay? I crossed a line.”  
  
“You think?” Rowan said.  
  
“I invaded your privacy and that’s not okay,” he said quickly. He hoped that the speed in which he spoke did not take away from the sincerity. He was only hoping to get this apology out in the open before she decided to tase him again. The  _smart_ thing to do would be to leave before she had the chance, but even if he wanted to, Jack doubted he could bring himself to fly for at least another few minutes. His whole body felt strangely numb and he was surprised he managed to stay standing.   
  
“I didn’t think you’d be able to see me or even know I was here- and before you say anything, I know that doesn’t make it okay, but that’s how I was justifying it and fine, I admit, I was wrong,” he continued. “I  _knew_  it was wrong. But I swear to you, I was only sticking around because I wanted to know more about your stories, and had I known right away that you could see me I would have just asked you about them.”  
  
“My stories,” she repeated dryly, arms crossed.  
  
“They’re really good, you’ve got a lot of talent,” Jack said, smiling nervously at the girl. He flexed his fingers, hoping feeling would soon return to them.  
  
“How would breaking in here help you find out more about the stories?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Well, I went through the notebook,” Jack said as though it were obvious, gesturing (more slowly than he expected) to the kitchen table where the composition book still sat. Rowan’s face dropped, and the color that had slowly been returning to it while she gained control over the situation drained away once more.  
  
“You  _read my notebook?”_  she whispered.  
  
“Well-”  
  
“Oh, this just got  _so much worse,”_  Rowan practically whined. Jack was not expecting that reaction at all.  
  
“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask.  
  
“You don’t get it, do you?” she snapped. “That notebook is full of my unfinished ideas, drafts, concepts. They’re my thoughts, good and bad, nothing in here is in any sort of state to be seen by someone besides me!”  
  
“That’s why you’re upset?” Jack said, confused. “Because they’re not done yet?”  
  
“You can’t just go through my story notes, okay? It’s like going through my sketchbook or my diary! It’s personal, it’s a place where I can flesh out ideas no matter how good or bad they are without worrying about how it turns out. I can be myself in the pages of this book and you  _violated that_ ,” Rowan practically growled. It was clear that reading her notebook had upset her even more than breaking into her apartment or watching her had. Somehow Jack managed to feel even worse.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he said after a pause, with as much sincerity as he could manage. “I mean, I just wanted to know what happened in the stories, they’re really great.”  
  
Something changed in her expression, and for a split second Jack could have sworn she seemed to be flattered by his words. However, she quickly recovered and returned to her stern demeanor. “Look, it’s nice that you like them and all but you can’t just go through my things like that! These aren’t just stories to me, okay? They’re my life, my  _purpose_. If I don’t have these stories… they’re the most important thing to me.”  
  
Jack rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I really am sorry. Like I said before, if I had known that you could see me, I would have just been upfront about it. See, when people don’t believe in me, it’s like I’m not even there. They can’t see me, hear me, touch me… so asking you about the stories seemed out of the question. I never meant to make you so upset, really.”  
  
Rowan’s expression softened a bit as she watched him curiously. His words seemed to break through her rage, if only a little.  
  
“Look,” he said, hoping for the best. “I’d really like to start over.”  
  
She watched him quizzically and still did not respond.  
  
Hesitantly he reached out his right hand to her. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Jack Frost.”  
  
She watched his hand for a moment before slowly extending her own, goosebumps rushing up her arm as they made contact.  
  
“My name is Rowan Sawyer,” she said as they firmly shook hands before releasing their grasp on each other.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you, I wish the circumstances were better,” Jack said with a short nod. Rowan watched him skeptically and began to circle him, seeming to analyze every inch of him.  
  
“This is slightly uncomfortable,” Jack said as she continued to walk around him.  
  
“So is finding out someone’s been breaking into your home and going through your things,” Rowan retorted.  
  
“Fair enough,” Jack replied.  
  
“So you’re really  _the_  Jack Frost,” she said, stopping once she returned to her original spot. She set the taser down again, which caused Jack to sigh in relief. “Old Man Winter, the whole shebang?”  
  
“Yep,” Jack said with a smirk.  
  
“I pictured you older… and dressed more like an elf, like the Christmas special,” Rowan said, tilting her head as she continued to seemingly memorize everything about him.  
  
“Sorry to disappoint,” Jack said, making a face as he thought of the costume the stop-motion animated Jack Frost wore in the obviously-not-popular-enough-to-get-him-believers-any-earlier holiday special.  
  
“How old  _are_  you?” she asked. It seemed her curiosity had finally outweighed her anger, and Jack would certainly take that over being tased again.  
  
“I turned 318 this year,” Jack said. Rowan seemed a bit awed at the number but quickly hid it with more curiosity as she turned her attention to his staff. “How old are  _you?”_  
  
“Aren’t you never supposed to ask a lady that?” Rowan asked, eyes still fixed on the frost that twisted elegantly around the staff in his hand. “I turn twenty on Saturday.”  
  
“Happy Birthday,” he said.  
  
“Thanks…” she said, trailing off as she lightly brushed her fingers against the staff, pulling them away as the frost began to climb along her fingertips. She watched the frost continue to spread to her hand until it quickly melted. “Peculiar…”  
  
“So does this mean you won’t tase me anymore?” Jack asked at last.  
  
Rowan crossed her arms and watched him for a moment, as though considering his question before finally taking a deep breath and beginning to speak again. “You want me to forgive you for breaking in and invading my privacy?”  
  
“Are you going to?” he asked.  
  
“I will,” she said, “On a few conditions.”  
  
Jack hesitated for a moment, wondering what on Earth these conditions could be. Deciding that they couldn’t be much worse than being tased, or the chorus of ‘I told you so’s that he’d have to put up with the next time he saw North and Bunny, he said, “Okay. What are the conditions?”  
  
“First,” she said, ticking the conditions off on her fingers. “You will never enter my apartment without my permission again. You have to knock, like  _decent_  people do.”  
  
“That’s fair,” Jack said with a nod.  
  
“Next, you have to swear you’re never going to go through my notes or sketches again. If you want to see any, you ask and I will show you what I want to show you.”  
  
“Also fair.”  
  
“And last,” Rowan said, walking over to the table and scooping up her notebook and a pen. She turned back to him and flipped to a blank page before clicking the pen. She looked back up at him, meeting his eyes yet again. “You have to answer all my questions to the best of your ability, and  _honestly_.”  
  
“Questions about what?” Jack asked.  
  
“Everything,” Rowan said. “You, the ‘Guardians,’  _everything._ ”  
  
Jack slowly made his way over to Rowan’s small couch and set himself down, his staff set on his lap as he smirked at her. He gestured to the spot on the couch beside him and said, “What do you want to know?”


	9. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't come as easy as some of the other ones, but I had some fun with it regardless. Rowan and Jack interact with each other some more, get to know each other better. But how does Rowan feel about Jack and the fact that he exists?

_It briefly occurred to him that he was starting some kind of friendship with Rowan, and in doing so was doing the exact opposite of what Bunny had told him to do._

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Questions**

* * *

  
  
It had been hours and Rowan had asked Jack question upon question  _upon question_  about everything she could possibly think of. She asked who each of the Guardians were, and for descriptions of what they looked like. She asked how North managed to deliver toys all over the world in one night and how Bunny managed to hide so many eggs in one day. She asked how old they each were and how tall, as well as what their favorite colors were. She asked about the elves and upon finding out about them, the yetis. She asked how someone became a Guardian and after learning more about the Man in the Moon, had asked if he was God.  
  
Jack had truly never considered that notion before and had gone with ‘no,’ as an answer.  
  
She asked about the other immortal beings that weren’t Guardians. She asked about Cupid, the Leprechaun, and the Groundhog. She asked if Halloween had a spirit watching over it, and upon learning that the Headless Horseman was in charge of that holiday, asked about him and his backstory. Jack was permitted to see a few of the sketches she had created based on his descriptions and suggested a few changes to be made for accuracy. She scribbled away madly as he answered all her questions, seeming to warm up to him as the interview continued. He was even able to get a few smiles out of her, which was a welcome change.  
  
Somehow the questions had led full-circle back to him. She suddenly remembered her roses and asked if he had been the one to leave them for her, and he explained his attempt to make up for breaking in all the time. She informed him that his attempted had failed, but thanked him for the flowers nonetheless.  
  
Rowan asked him if he had always been Jack Frost, or if he had been someone before that, to which Jack hesitated a moment before explaining that he was born Jackson Overland and telling her a bit about his life before becoming Jack Frost. She asked how he transitioned from one to the other, knowing only that the Man in the Moon had something to do with it.  
  
Jack debated over telling her the story of his death, finally saying it was a story for another time due to its personal nature. He half expected Rowan to argue with him, considering that their deal was that he was supposed to answer  _all_  of her questions.  
  
However, she agreed to hear the story another time, considering she already had so many things written down to mull over.  
  
“I can’t believe this all exists,” Rowan said, flipping through the notes she had taken.  
  
“I still can’t believe you can see me,” Jack said, watching her as she scanned over her notes. She was too enthralled with her research to notice him examining her in much the same way she had examined him earlier. There was something exciting about  _her_  being able to see him. Now that she was no longer threatening him, similar excitement that he had felt when Jamie finally saw him could be felt building up inside Jack’s being.  
  
The only thing that made her different was her age, and all at once Jack decided that must be why he was so pleased about this. Rowan was right around the age that he would forever be stuck at, and something about that was exciting. Having her around would be like having a peer of some kind.  
  
It briefly occurred to him that he was starting some kind of friendship with Rowan, and in doing so was doing the exact opposite of what Bunny had told him to do. Jack shook himself of this thought.  
  
Bunny and North didn’t get to tell him what to do, remember?  
  
“I can’t really, either,” Rowan said. “What’s it like to fly?”  
  
“I can show you,” Jack said, extending his hand out to her to take as he stood up from his place on the couch. She laughed a little and shook her head. “What’s the matter? Scared?”  
  
“I still don’t trust you,” Rowan said. That statement, spoken so simply, managed to sting more than Jack had anticipated it would. Rowan was certainly more cautious than any of the children he knew.  
  
“I thought you forgave me, though,” Jack said, lowering his hand at last.  
  
“That doesn’t mean I have to trust you,” Rowan pointed out. She closed her notebook and brought herself to her feet. “Besides, it’s getting late and I still have to eat something and finish an essay before I go to bed. I have to be at work study in the morning, so we’d better call it a night.”  
  
“You’re turning out to be more complicated than I thought you were,” Jack said, watching as Rowan walked across the way to the table, setting her notebook down on the surface with the pen seated directly beside it. She walked into the small kitchen.  
  
“Well, no offense, but the only human beings you’ve had any conversations with lately have been pre-pubescent, I’m not surprised that you’re not used to complexities like  _responsibilities_ ,” Rowan said as she fumbled through the cupboards and produced a package of instant noodles and a bowl. “Plus, you probably didn’t break into their homes and go through their things.”  
  
 _“Which you forgave me for,”_  Jack reminded her immediately. “By the way,  _you_  still haven’t apologized for tasing me.”  
  
“Don’t hold your breath on that one,” Rowan said, eyeballing the amount of water needed for her noodles.  
  
“So, let me get this straight,” Jack said, leaning on the counter across from Rowan. “I’ve apologized about ten times, agreed to your conditions to be forgiven for what I’ve done, and yet you get to tase me and not trust me?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Rowan said as she pressed a few buttons on her microwave. “Trust has to be earned, Jack. And I think you deserved the tasing, honestly.”  
  
“Do you really think you’re worth all this trouble?” Jack teased.  
  
“If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t have kept coming back,” Rowan pointed out with a small shrug.   
  
“I came back for the  _stories_ ,” he said. This excuse was beginning to seem more and more meaningless the more he said it.  
  
“Those stories don’t exist without me,” Rowan pointed out, pulling herself atop her counter and sitting there.  
  
“I’ll give you that,” Jack said. His mind wandered back to their earlier conversation where the tasing had taken place and asked, “Can I ask  _you_  a couple questions?”  
  
“Depends on the questions,” Rowan said.  
  
“Hey, I answered all of yours,” he pointed out.  
  
“We made a  _deal_  that you would. And you actually  _didn’t_  answer all my questions,  _Jackson Overland_ ,” Rowan said. There, Jack had wondered when his apprehension to share that story would come up. Admittedly it was sooner than he expected.  
  
“You just have an answer for everything, don’t you?”  
  
“Is that one of your questions?” she asked with a slight smile that Jack couldn’t help but return.  
  
“You said you’d seen me since Burgess,” Jack said. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”  
  
“I saw you toward the end of my visit,” Rowan explained. “Lurking around the living room window, but only ever for a second. I thought I was seeing things. Then I drove back here… there was a shadow and I kept hearing something hit the top of my car.”  
  
“Yeah, that was me,” Jack said with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t keep my balance with your driving.”  
  
“My driving wouldn’t have been so bad if  _someone_  had not iced the roads,” Rowan said.  
  
“Hey, do you understand how many times I stopped you from crashing that day? At  _least_  ten. At least. I stopped counting after that,” Jack said, standing upright again.  
  
Rowan seemed as though she were about to reply, but closed her mouth for a moment, seeming to rethink what she was about to say. Jack watched her expectantly before she finally said, “Well. Thank you for that.”  
  
“You’re welcome.”  
  
“Why did you help me out in particular?”  
  
“Jamie asked me to,” Jack explained. “I thought I was asking the questions now?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan said, feigning annoyance but a smile still pulling at her lips. “That was very nice of Jamie to be so concerned. But anyway, I didn’t get a good look at you until I stopped by the store on my way back, I saw you playing with some kids at a bus stop. I just remember thinking ‘this guy is insane, he needs to put shoes on, it’s freezing.’ I mean, I  _thought_ you might be the same person I kept seeing out the window in Burgess but I figured that wasn’t very likely so I shrugged it off.”   
  
“You said you saw me outside the living room window; you didn’t see me outside Jamie’s window when you told him the story?” Jack asked.  
  
Rowan shook her head. “No, but my back was to the window the whole time. I never saw you outside the apartment window either, but I guess I was just… really focused on my projects. Then I started seeing you lurking around campus and when Shirley and everyone else couldn’t see you, I figured you were probably a ghost.”  
  
“Which is why you called me as much when you caught me here,” Jack said.  
  
“Pretty much,” she said, sliding off the counter as the microwave beeped. She took an oven mitt before pulling out the bowl of noodles. “Was there anything else?”  
  
“Where’d you get the taser?” Jack asked as Rowan mixed the flavor packet into her dinner-on-a-budget.  
  
“As soon as I decided to go to school in a state that allowed them, Dad ordered me one. It was my going-away gift,” she lightly blew on a forkful of noodles, hoping to cool it, before sliding it into her mouth. “Tonight was the first time I’ve had to use it since I started college though.”  
  
“I’m… um, honored, I guess?”  
  
“Could’ve been worse,” she said with a shrug.  
  
“If you say so.”  
  
“You’re still conscious, so.”  
  
“Well, thanks for going easy on me, I suppose,” Jack said.  
  
“Of course,” she said, tucking a bit of her hair behind her ear. “Now, if you’re done asking questions, you should leave my apartment.”  
  
“Ah man, you were serious about kicking me out, huh?”  
  
“Sure was!”  
  
Jack hovered a few inches above the ground, pleased to see that he had recovered enough from the tasing to do so. Flying a bit closer to where she stood, he held his hand out to her once more.  
  
Setting down her fork, Rowan took his hand in hers and shook it as she had earlier.  
  
“Until next time, then,” Jack said.  
  
“Just be sure to knock first,” Rowan reminded him.  
  
Jack simply smirked in response before twisting over her countertop in flight, heading for her window. Sliding the window open, he slipped through it, sending a strong gust of wind behind him to slam it shut as soon as he was through.  
  
In the past three hundred years, he could remember few evenings that had gone quite so strangely.

* * *

  
  
Default alarms on any cellular device seemed to be the most obnoxious combination of tones and beats, strung together in what was probably only a tune in the loosest form of the word. This beeping monstrosity is what woke Rowan the next morning, as it did every morning.  
  
She groaned in response, pulling one of the pillows on her bed over her head and mumbling obscenities as she buried herself into her blankets. Still, the beeping continued, technology not yet in a place to take these cues as an indication to activate the “snooze” option.  
  
Finally, rubbing sleep from her eyes, Rowan rolled over to her bedside table, swiping at the touch screen of her cell phone with little rhyme or reason before it finally stopped beeping.  
  
“The semester’s almost over,” she mumbled in an attempt to motivate herself to sit up. The bed seemed to become more comfortable the longer she stayed curled up in the blankets and she groaned again at the thought of leaving it.  
  
She glanced at her phone, wondering when it would begin to beep again, or if she had even put the alarm on snooze or cancelled it all together. This train of thought quickly came to a halt, however, when her eyes fell upon her notebook, which she had brought to bed with her in order to scribble more thoughts before she went to sleep.  
  
Rowan sat upright suddenly, pulling the notebook over as she remembered the events from the night before. Had all of that _actually_  happened? Or was it all a dream?  
  
All of her notes on the Guardians she remembered writing were still in her composition book. This certainly implied that she hadn’t gone through an elaborate dream, but she couldn’t help but still find herself doubting as she climbed out of her bed and approached her window, covered in frost.  
  
Written in the frost were the words, “Good Morning.” Rowan lightly touched the words, finding that they had been written on the outside of her third-story window.  
  
She smiled softly, finding that it was enough confirmation for her that it had all happened. She still wasn’t sure what to think about the entire thing, and part of her still wondered if she was insane.  
  
“Good morning, Jack,” she whispered, before closing the curtains so that she could get ready without worrying about prying eyes.

* * *

  
  
Jamie Bennett had been home from school for a few hours now, his homework complete and now occupying his time with a pile of art supplies. Jack stood nearby, watching as Jamie worked on a portrait of Phil, the Yeti.  
  
“You don’t seem very surprised that your cousin could see me,” he said, leaning against his staff.  
  
“Rowan always told me that she still believed in Santa Claus,” Jamie said, looking up from his drawing for a moment. “And the Easter Bunny, and the Sandman, and the Tooth Fairy. I always thought she just said it because she didn’t want  _me_  to stop believing… but then, part of me sort of thought that maybe she really did.”  
  
“She’s sort of old for it,” Jack said, still stuck on that factor. A girl about to turn  _twenty_  believed in him.  
  
“You’re three-hundred,” Jamie pointed out. Jack had no response for this. “Plus, our grandma says no one’s too old to believe in magic.”  
  
“Jamie!” came Lorelei’s voice from down the hall. Jamie stood up and walked across the room in time for Lorelei to appear in the doorway, her cellphone in her hand. “Rowan’s on the phone for you.”  
  
“She must have more of the story to tell me!” Jamie said with excitement, taking the phone gently from his mother’s grasp.  
  
“Just bring me back my phone when you’re done talking to her,” Lorelei said.  
  
“I will!” Jamie said as Lorelei made her way back downstairs. Jamie put the phone to his ear as he plopped down on his bed. Jack sat beside to him and set his ear near Jamie’s in order to hear Rowan on the other end.  
  
“Hi Rowan!” Jamie said cheerfully.  
  
 _“Hello, Jamie! How are you?”_  
  
“I’m good, how are you?”  
  
 _“I’ve had an interesting few days.”_  
  
“Did you work on the story any more?” Jamie asked.  
  
 _“I did! But I wanted to talk to you a little before I tell you more.”_  
  
“About what?”  
  
 _“Do, uh… do you have a friend named Jack?”_  
  
Jack smirked and Jamie said, “Yep!”  
  
 _“… Jack Frost?”_  
  
“That’s him.”  
  
 _“What does he look like?”_  
  
“He’s skinny and has white hair. He wears a blue hoodie and carries a big stick around. You know, like Theodore Roosevelt.”  
  
 _“’Speak softly and carry a big stick,’ I’m glad you’re paying attention in history.”_  
  
“Did you know that Theodore Roosevelt was shot in the chest but he was so tough that the bullet got stuck in his muscles?” Jamie said. “And then he still delivered his speech.”  
  
“That was the best speech I have ever gone to, hands down,” Jack said.  
  
 _“Oh my God, he’s_ there?” Rowan’s voice came from the other end of the phone, obviously having heard Jack’s comment.  
  
“No, Theodore Roosevelt is not here; he’s dead, you see,” Jack said. Jamie let out a small laugh.  
  
 _“I was going to call you a certain name but my little cousin is listening and he keeps a swear jar.”_  
  
“It’s how I paid for my roller blades,” Jamie said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Calling to verify my story with your cousin, are we?” Jack said. Jamie had turned the phone slightly so that he and Jack could both easily speak into it and listen to Rowan.  
  
 _“Well do forgive me if I’m a little suspicious of someone who has allegedly had three centuries to master the fine art of lying.”_  
  
“Your lack of faith in me is ironic considering your belief in me,” Jack retorted.  
  
“Jack is a Guardian, he’s one of the good guys,” Jamie assured Rowan. “You should have seen him fighting the Boogie Man!”  
  
 _“The Boogie Man?”_  
  
“Pitch Black, we didn’t get to him during our little interview last night,” Jack explained. “It’s a good story, actually, but I believe it’s  _your_  turn to tell the stories.”  
  
 _“Why are_ you _so concerned about hearing the next part of the story? You already went through my notebook you-_ ”  
  
“Swear jar,” Jack reminded her immediately. “And you forgave me for that.”  
  
A frustrated groan could be heard from Rowan’s end of the phone.  
  
“Rowan,” Jamie said. “Are you going to tell us the story?”  
  
 _“Okay, okay. So, we left off with Jack finding out he needs some gold to summon the sea witch during the full moon, right?”_  
  
“Uh-huh,” Jamie said.  
  
 _“Well, being shipwrecked, Jack didn’t have any gold. So, he had to come up with a plan to get some. Sneaking back toward town after promising the witch that had helped him that he would be back to visit, he crept along the shadows. He observed the townsfolk and tried to learn as much as he could about them, careful to remain unseen._  
  
 _“He soon stumbled upon a man lying in the gutter, in the middle of what was sure to be a very long bender-”_  
  
“What’s a bender?” Jamie asked, interrupting.  
  
“It’s when you drink a lot of liquor for a lot longer than you should,” Jack said. “Not something you ever want to do.”  
  
 _“Pretty much. So this guy is really out of it but he’s really, really well dressed. Jack soon realizes that this man is a butler and finds his opportunity. He convinces this man to trade clothes with him, and heads toward the grandest house in the area: the governor’s mansion._  
  
 _“Jack turned on his charm and was able to land himself a position at the house as a butler. It would seem that their previous butler had disappeared a few days prior.”_  
  
“Was he the one on the bender?” Jamie asked.  
  
 _“Yes, he was. Everything seemed to be working out fairly well for Jack. He had plans to stick around only until the full moon, at which point he’d steal some gold from the governor and use it to summon the sea witch. However, he knew that soon something would have to go wrong, for his luck was never this good._  
  
 _“That’s when he met Miss Gates.”_  
  
“I love Miss Gates,” Jack immediately said to Jamie, who shushed him so that Rowan may continue her story.  
  
 _“Miss Gates was a maid at the mansion, and while the governor’s wife was technically in charge of the staff, Miss Gates ran the house. Without her, the staff would never get anything done, the house would erupt into chaos.”_  
  
“What did she look like?” Jamie asked.  
  
 _“She had dark hair, always pulled back, and even darker eyes. She was rather young to be so commanding and respectable. Jack feared her almost immediately, and responded to her attempts to intimidate her further with snide comments and jokes to try and hide this. Secretly, she found his jokes to be funny, but in order to maintain her reputation, Miss Gates assigned Jack the most humiliating of jobs. He felt as though working at a mansion with Miss Gates was comparable to scrubbing the brig under the command of a ruthless pirate captain._  
  
 _“But Jack could not let her distract from his goal, to rob the governor and summon the sea witch. So while Jack worked, he kept a mental list of all the valuables in the house and all the places in which they were hidden. In an attempt to keep things discreet, he stole a few small jewels from the governor’s wife throughout the course of two weeks. She didn’t even notice them missing, and Jack considered himself a great thief for accomplishing this._  
  
 _“That is, until one day Jack was walking past the hall closet and was suddenly tugged inside of it, a furious Miss Gates suddenly speaking to him in angry whispers. ‘I know what you are,’ Miss Gates told Jack. ‘I know that you’re a pirate posing as a decent, hard working man. I know that you stole the jewels in my lady’s box, I know that you’ve been keeping a close eye on all the valuables in this house.’”_  
  
“How did she figure it out?” Jamie asked.  
  
“Because Miss Gates is smart,” Jack answered.  
  
 _“That’s right, she’s very smart,”_ Rowan said.  
  
“What happened next?”  
  
 _“Jack was cornered as the maid listed off every terrible thing that he had done, a fire in her eyes as she accused him. ‘Just how stupid do you think I am?’ she demanded at last. ‘Did you truly think you could just take a position here, in the house I essentially run, and rob this family without me finding out? You must think you’re so clever.’ Jack opened his mouth to respond but Miss Gates’ gaze warned him against it._  
  
 _“‘Why should you get to rob and be dishonest while there’s people in this world trying to make an honest living?’ Miss Gates demanded. Finally, Jack found his voice and asked the woman why she was confronting him about this in the hall closet of all places. She would surely be seen as some kind of hero if she were to expose him in front of the governor and the rest of the staff.”_  
  
“So why didn’t she?” Jamie asked.  
  
“Don’t hold your breath, this is the end for now,” Jack said with a pout.  
  
 _“I wrote some more, actually,”_ Rowan said. Jack’s eyes lit up at this statement.  
  
“Well go on, then!” Jack urged.  
  
 _“Miss Gates was at a loss for a response for a short moment before leaning in and speaking in even softer tones than had been used before. She told him that she had been a decent, hard working person for years and had nothing to show for it. She told him that she knew where every valuable in that house was located._  
  
 _“She told him, ‘I want in.’”_  
  
 _“Miss Gates had spent her entire life resenting pirates for having the life she longed for. She wanted adventure, she wanted riches, she wanted a life free of schedules, responsibilities, and making beds. She saw Jack, this pathetic sailor, a pirate without a crew, as her ticket out.”_  
  
“What did Jack say?” asked Jamie.  
  
 _“He thought she was making things up to try to get him to confess to something. She assured him that she was not, and Jack found himself believing her. He explained that he had no ship and no crew, and that for now his only plan was to get enough gold to summon the sea witch so that he could beat her in a challenge._  
  
 _“Without even being asked if she would like to join, Miss Gates agreed to be his partner in crime, and began to explain to him how they would obtain enough gold and get away with all of it in tow. They had only two weeks to set this plan in motion before the full moon arrived.”_  
  
“Then what happened?”  
  
 _“That’s all I have worked out for now,”_ Rowan said. Her response was met with a groan from both Jamie and Jack.  
  
“When will you have more?” Jamie asked.  
  
 _“Maybe after the semester’s over, I just started an extra project because apparently I want to suffer.”_  
  
“Will you promise to call?”  
  
 _“Of course. But I’d better let you go, okay?”_  
  
“Okay. Goodbye, Rowan.”  
  
 _“Goodbye, Jamie,”_  pause,  _“Goodbye, Jack.”_  
  
“See you around,” Jack said with a small smile, pleased to have at least been acknowledged. The call ended and Jamie brought himself to his feet.  
  
“Better give Mom her phone back,” the boy said. “Be right back.”

* * *

  
  
Rowan set her phone down on her bedside table and leaned back against her pillows, staring at her bright computer screen. She had been working on laying flat colors for a project she had started during her downtime at work study that morning. She had continued tweaking it throughout the day during her breaks and hadn’t stopped working on it since she had returned home from classes a few hours earlier.  
  
At the end of each semester was a student show. The pieces had to be submitted for judgment and approval, and getting in looked great on a resume. Most people waited until the spring show, which was much bigger and allowed pieces from the entire year. Rowan had no plans to submit anything to the student show this semester until she had begun this project earlier.  
  
Submissions were due at midnight. That night.  
  
 _“Why_  do I hate myself so much?” she mumbled as she continued sliding the pen for her graphics tablet across the tablet’s surface in order to digitally complete the piece. She was fairly certain she could complete the work on time… just as long as she kept focused.  
  
All of her drive was going into this project, most of her others already completed. She had woken up that morning with her mind racing and soon found herself inspired; she simply could not let this piece remain an idea. Especially since, for once, she thought it stood a chance to get in.  
  
Once she had started the sketch, it had all just worked out too well.  
  
Fiddling with some keys on her keyboard, Rowan zoomed out of her image in order to fit the whole thing on her screen. She sighed as Jack Frost smirked back at her, as though to taunt her and the fact that he had somehow become her muse.


	10. The Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the late chapter! This one was another one that gave me problems, as I was worried about everything coming across clearly. Hopefully I'm not dumping too much information on you guys. We've got a few more introductions among other things going on in this chapter.

_"You avoided me the whole meeting, Jack, is that any way to treat-"_

_“You? Yes.”_

* * *

  **Chapter Ten: The Threat**

* * *

  
  
Jack managed to land on his feet for once after being tossed through one of North’s portals. The signal for the Guardians to come to the North Pole had barely gone out moments before, the same instant Jack left the Bennetts’ home.  
  
Jack barely had a chance to consider following the signal himself before a pair of Yetis practically plucked him from the air.  
  
“North,” Jack said, annoyance clear in his voice as the Yetis that had fetched him emerged from the portal. “Why can’t you ever just, I don’t know,  _ask_  me to come to the pole? I mean, I doubt you toss  _Bunny_  around every time you need to talk to him.”  
  
Bunny scoffed, having just emerged from his tunnel nearby. “I’d like to see ‘em try.”  
  
“You will remember, Jack, that we  _tried_  that once,” North said, fiddling with a toy airplane. The propeller began to spin and the man smiled as it flew from his grasp and over to the wrapping station. “You were meant to come here for annual summer meeting- your  _first_  annual summer meeting as Guardian, I might add- and you tell me, ‘Yes, North, I will be there.’ But instead? You go to New Zealand and cause blizzard.”  
  
Jack seemed to be reminiscing over this blizzard, a smile on his face. “You should’ve seen it, though, North. That was a good day.”  
  
“You should have been here for that meeting.”  
  
“But Bunny said that the summer meeting is all about synchronizing numbers and reviewing belief percentages. A blizzard sounded more, well,  _fun_ ,” Jack said.  
  
“Is not the point of meetings to be fun,” North said. He turned to Bunny and added, “Why did you tell him that, you knew he wouldn’t come.”  
  
“Am I supposed to lie to him? I’m a Guardian, I’m supposed to be setting a good example and all that,” Bunny said, laughing slightly. He obviously wasn’t too concerned about Jack not showing up to such a meeting.  
  
“So why are  _all_  the Guardians coming here?” Jack asked. “If it’s so the four of you can lecture me about Rowan-”  
  
“It’s not, but I  _am_  disappointed that you have  _continued_  to break in,” North said narrowing his eyes as he took a step back to allow some elves to scurry by with a roll of wrapping paper.  
  
“She and I already sorted that out,” Jack said as casually as he could manage.  
  
“What do you mean you sorted it out?” Bunny said, he and North wearing the same shocked expressions. Evidently, North’s sources hadn’t informed him of this yet.  
  
“Yeah, funny thing, turns out she can see me.”  
  
“She can  _see_  you!?” North and Bunny said in unison.  
  
“Who can see who?” came Tooth’s voice as she and Sandy flew inside the pole, Sandy landing softly beside Jack. Tooth was joined by a few of her mini fairies, one of which immediately flew over to Jack and nuzzled herself against his cheek.  
  
“Baby Tooth!” Jack said with a smile. “I’ve missed you too.”  
  
“Is this about the breaking and entering?” Tooth asked, as it seemed like no one had bothered answering her earlier question.  
  
“Apparently the girl can  _see_  Jack. Very curious,” North said, clearly still puzzled.  
  
“Who is it?” Tooth asked.  
  
“Rowan Sawyer is her name,” North replied and Tooth immediately seemed to be racking her memory for someone of that name.  
  
Sandy grinned, recognizing the name immediately, and a pirate ship appeared above his head.  
  
“Yeah, the girl with the pirate story. Nice work with putting me in her dream,” Jack said with a smirk. Sandy simply shrugged as though to say that it was no big deal.  
  
“We are not here to discuss Miss Sawyer,” North said, trying to draw the others’ attention back to the fact that they had been gathered here for something important.  
  
“Is it the Muses?” Tooth asked, lured from her thoughts and seeming worried.  
  
“Yes, Urania has gathered more information and requested an audience with all of us,” North said.  
  
“So what is it?” Bunny asked, seeming sort of bored at the idea. Jack couldn’t honestly blame him, considering the limited and vague information that had been provided last time.  
  
“I can explain that,” Urania said, as she hovered down from the opening in the ceiling that Tooth and Sandy had entered from. She landed gracefully near Tooth and the two exchanged smiles in greeting.  
  
“Toothiana, you look lovely as always,” Urania said.  
  
“It’s so good to see you again, Urania!” Tooth said, throwing her arms around the Muse. Jack shot Baby Tooth (who had perched herself down on his shoulder) a confused glance, and in doing so spied Bunny rolling his eyes. Baby Tooth didn’t seem nearly as confused as Jack was at the affection that Tooth showed the Muse.  
  
It never really crossed his mind that the other Guardians likely had better relationships with the Muses than he did, much less _good_ relationships.  
  
“I’ll tell you all what I learned as soon as the others get here,” Urania said as soon as she and Tooth broke away from their embrace.  
  
“The others?” Bunny said. “I didn’t realize this was going to be a gathering of the Muses as well.”  
  
 _“All_  of the Muses?” Jack said, making a face at the idea.  
  
“Hopefully,” Urania said, glancing toward the opening in the ceiling. “Oh, good, Calliope’s here.”  
  
A bird flew down from the opening in the ceiling, seeming to have a slight glow to it as it approached the platform where they all stood. Before their eyes, in a burst of light, it transformed into the lovely brunette in the feathered dress.  
  
Before anyone else could say a word, a huge grin came to Sandy’s face and he floated on a dream cloud over to the woman. Various images flashed above his head, some of which were a sun, a moon, a heart, and some flowers.  
  
“Sanderson!” Calliope said, her eyes lighting up as Jack had never seen before. The Calliope he knew was commanding and somewhat cold. And yet, here was Sandy, floating at eye level and prompting a strange warmth from her. She seemed delighted at the images flashing above his head. “I missed you too.”  
  
As though Jack could not be any more confused, the leading Muse leaned forward and kissed the short Guardian on the lips before briefly embracing him.  
  
“What the hell is going on?” Jack said before realizing the words were coming out of his mouth rather than crossing his mind. He quickly glanced away, as though pretending someone else had said it as Calliope turned to glare at him.  
  
“Ah yes, you’ve got yourselves a new member,” Calliope said dryly, taking a seat on the nearby railing with Sandy. “Pity.”  
  
Tooth approached Jack and whispered softly in his ear. “Sandy and Calliope are, well, very close.”  
  
“Well, I kind of picked up on that,” Jack whispered back. “It just doesn’t really make any sense and I… guess I didn’t think Sandy had it in him?”  
  
“He was the first Guardian the moon chose, she was the first Muse the sun chose. They became companions and soon, well, more than that. They’re the ones that started the alliance, wasn’t any of this explained to you?” Tooth whispered, concern clear on her face at the fact that this was new information to Jack.  
  
“Well, Sandy’s not much of a talker.”  
  
“Ain’t that the truth,” came a voice behind Jack, causing both him and Tooth to jump in surprise. Quickly turning, the rest of the group found a short, blonde woman holding a grinning comedy mask to her face. Her gray eyes bat playfully behind the mask as she giggled before pulling it aside. Her clothes were strange, mostly white and checkered, her collar adorned with dramatic frills. She looked as though she belonged in commedia dell’arte.  
  
“Hello Thalia,” North greeted the woman.  
  
“St. Nick,” she greeted with a small curtsy. She turned back to Jack and smiled, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Hear you’re a Guardian now, huh?”  
  
“Yeah, I am,” Jack said. Thalia and Urania were the only Muses he didn’t feel an impending sense of doom around.  
  
“Does this mean you can put a good word in with North for me about letting me have one of his elves?” Thalia whispered to him seriously. “I’d take good care of him.”  
  
“I don’t think my word is going to mean much right now, I’m kind of in trouble,” Jack said, rolling his eyes at the thought.  
  
“Oooh, what did you do?” she asked, eyes lighting up. “Is this about the breaking and entering thing, Urania said you got a lecture for-”  
  
“That is  _not why we’re here,_ ” North said, growing frustrated. Thalia pouted, releasing Jack from her grasp before placing her mask back to her face. In the next instant she vanished from the spot, causing the Guardians to glance around for her curiously.  
  
She re-appeared near the other Muses, removing her mask once more before leaning against the railing and watching the globe as it rotated.  
  
“Is Melpomene on her way?” Calliope asked Thalia, lightly running her hand over Sandy’s hair as she spoke. Sandy wore a soft smile, seeming pleased to simply be seated beside the eldest Muse.  
  
“How should I know?” Thalia said.  
  
“She’s Tragedy, you’re Comedy,” Calliope said.  
  
“I’m not her keeper, Calliope. Aren’t you all of ours?” Thalia said, batting her lashes again, mockingly.  
  
“Please, no cattiness, this meeting is important,” Urania said with a sigh.  
  
“I can’t believe  _I’m_  not the one running late,” Thalia said, glancing around as though she’d find other Muses hiding somewhere else in the room.  
  
“One time in how many centuries?” Calliope said with a yawn. Thalia simply stuck her tongue out at the other Muse in response.  
  
“Terpsichore isn’t coming,” came a low, sensual voice from the distance. At once everyone’s heads turned to find a tall woman with her hair fashioned in victory rolls walking like a model on the runway behind some yetis. It seemed that unlike the others, she had entered through the front door. The yetis led the woman to the platform where the others waited. “Neither are Polyhymnia, Euterpe or Clio.”  
  
“Why not!?” Calliope demanded, standing up from her place at the railing. Sandy floated beside her, watching her with slight concern as her brow furrowed in annoyance.  
  
“Clio says she already spoke with Urania and is looking through the past right now to look for clues to help us,” the new arrival explained.  
  
“It’s true, I sent her a message in the stars,” Urania said. “But I still expected her to come to the meeting. After all, time is on her side.”  
  
“If she can travel through time,” Bunny said. “Why doesn’t she just go into the future and see what exactly is going on and what we should do?”  
  
“Clio’s area of expertise is  _history._  She cannot go any further forward than the current moment in time, the latest moment she, herself, has experienced. She can go as far  _back_  as she wants,” Urania explained.  
  
“And what about the others, Erato?” Calliope demanded.  
  
“Calm down, Calliope,  _I_  didn’t make them stay away, I’m simply the messenger. They thought gathering in one place would make us an easier target,” Erato said with a shrug. “And considering that Euterpe, Polyhymnia and Terpsichore don’t really have any powers that would be useful in a combative situation, I don’t honestly blame them.”  
  
“And what exactly does the Muse of love poetry bring to the table?” Jack couldn’t help but ask. Was she going to court the enemy to death? Erato simply rolled her eyes.  
  
“What exactly does an immature brat with a stick bring to the table?” Calliope sighed.  
  
“Now, now,  _I’m_  the spirit of winter. There’s no need for  _you_  to act like a frigid bitch,” Jack said. Calliope’s eyes narrowed and Sandy shook his head slightly at both of them. Thalia couldn’t help but laugh and place her mask before her face. She soon disappeared from the railing and re-appeared beside Jack, holding up her hand.  
  
“I know she’s my ‘sister’ so I should be on her side, but high five, that was good. You must have been waiting for the opportunity to use that one,” she said. Jack smirked and slapped his hand against Thalia’s before the Muse returned to her earlier spot, this time by foot.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry, Calliope,” Erato said, tucking a loose strand of hair away. “Jack won’t be smirking for long.”  
  
“I would like to just remind everyone,” North said loudly, commanding everyone’s attention. “That regardless of personal grudges, the Guardians and the Muses are allies. We protect each other, and help keep each other strong. This is very serious matter. Now I want  _all of you_  to begin acting more professional. And if that means less talking from some of you,” North cast a glance toward Jack, who rolled his eyes, “Then I suggest you take these steps.”  
  
The group was silent for a moment, like a group of school kids in trouble. The only sound was that of the yetis and elves working diligently in the background. Tooth suddenly flew over to Erato, who greeted her warmly and embraced her. Tooth leaned in and whispered something to Erato and the Muse sighed before nodding slightly.  
  
“Is everyone who’s coming already here?” North asked as Tooth made her way back over to the Guardians and Erato sat beside Thalia on the railing. “Can we get started?”  
  
Jack held his breath waiting for an answer. The Muses that were present, he could more than deal with.  
  
“Melpomene is on her way,” Erato said. Jack winced. “As soon as she tears herself away from her current companion.”  
  
“She’s not hanging around Pitch again, is she?” Bunny said, crossing his paws across his chest.  
  
“Oh, probably,” Calliope said bitterly.  
  
“Here’s a riddle,” Thalia said. “Are tragic beings attracted to Melpomene or is Melpomene attracted to tragic beings?”  
  
“I personally think it’s a bit of both,” a sort of hoarse sounding voice said as a woman dressed in black appeared from nowhere, holding a weeping tragedy mask before her face. Jack tried to act nonchalant as he slowly took a few steps back, leaning near the side of North’s massive fireplace and out of everyone’s immediate line of vision.  
  
“Well, good, now everyone is here,” North said, glancing down as a Yeti walked over and handed him something to sign. “Urania, tell us what you know. I have much to do!”  
  
All eyes fell to the bald woman who seemed to be lost in thought. “Where do I start?” she mumbled to herself before glancing behind her to the globe. Kicking off the ground, she flew over to some lights in South America, pointing to them. They grew dim every few seconds, but regained their light shortly after. It was barely noticeable unless pointed out.  
  
The yetis began mumbling to each other, as though wondering why they hadn’t noticed this earlier.  
  
“After much observation, I’ve been able to figure out the general locations and travel routes of our adversaries, as well as concluding who they are,” Urania said carefully, hesitating.  
  
“Whatever it is, it’s affecting the children,” Tooth said, flying closer to the lights, her mini fairies following her. The lights were growing dim in places in the other continents as well.  
  
“It could be a number of things, my first thought was Fearlings,” Urania said.  
  
“Fearlings are extinct,” Melpomene said at once. She glanced back at North. “You all made sure of that.”  
  
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Bunny said, eyes narrowing at the woman.  
  
“Comedy does not exist without tragedy, you should know that joy does not exist without fear,” Melpomene said.  
  
“We are not here to fight over this,” Calliope snapped, glaring at Melpomene until the other woman crossed her arms and glanced back at the globe like a barely obedient teenager.  
  
“It was my first thought,” Urania said. “But I knew it was unlikely.”  
  
“Fearlings were Pitch’s minions,” Jack said. He avoided Melpomene’s gaze as she and the others turned at the sound of his voice. The Guardians seemed confused at his new location toward the back, having not noticed him moving. “He could still be behind this, it could be the Nightmares, or-”  
  
“Pitch has nothing to do with this,” Melpomene said at once. Jack continued to avoid her gaze, deciding to focus on the globe.  
  
“How can you be so sure?” Tooth asked gently.  
  
“After what you all did to him a few months ago?” she said, pushing black hair from her face. “He’s still recovering. He’s much too weak to attempt another attack. Besides, I’ve been with him, I would have known.”  
  
“I honestly don’t think it’s Pitch either,” Urania said. “When I spoke to Tsar Lunar earlier, he also expressed his doubts in the Boogie Man being involved. No, what’s happening here,” Urania pointed to the flickering lights once more, “is a similar darkness to Pitch, but it isn’t him. These beings are feeding on the strongest aspects of a person. Imagination, creativity, talent, hope, optimism… belief. They’re claiming these aspects for their own power and purpose.”  
  
“Shadow People?” Tooth said at once, the mini fairies looking nervous the moment that the words passed her lips.  
  
“I believe so,” Urania said.  
  
“Shadow People haven’t ever been a legitimate threat,” Erato said. “What’s changed now?”  
  
“Hey, uh,” Jack said, still lurking in the background. “New guy here, what’s the deal with Shadow People? I thought they just hung out in the corner of your eye and made you paranoid.”  
  
“They do,” Thalia said, seeming serious for once. “And you don’t need to believe in them to see them.”  
  
“It’s true, they gain strength from that feeling that you’re being watched, from the fear of the figure you saw for just an instant before it went away. Those feelings leave your spirit, or I suppose, ‘center’ as North would put it, unguarded and easy to access,” Calliope said. A few images flashed above Sandy’s head, prompting the others to turn in his direction and watch carefully. “And Sanderson’s right, they rarely take enough of a person’s center to cause any permanent damage.”  
  
“They have no reason or purpose in anything they do,” Erato added. “It’s all just survival and moving on for them.”  
  
“Things  _have_  changed,” Urania said, having difficulties hiding the grim expression creeping to her face. “The Shadow People have always been very disorganized. They worked alone, and it’s true, they were never much of a threat before. But now they’ve come together and found strength in numbers. Now they have a common goal.”  
  
“So what is it exactly that they’re planning to do with this new strength? Why are the lights going dim?” Bunny asked.  
  
“They’re destroying the very things they feed on,” Urania said. “Leaving behind an empty shell. Not just of children, but of adults, too. The victims no longer can find their hope or their drive to create. All they feel is despair once the Shadow People stop feeding now.”  
  
“And when this happens to children, they will stop believing,” North said. Urania nodded.  
  
“Is it permanent?” Calliope asked.  
  
“It  _might_  be able to be reversed, but it would take years of actively trying to regain what was lost,” said Urania.  
  
“Like therapy?” Jack said. “Because I can tell you right now, everyone affected is going to end up treating this like clinical depression if they treat it at all.”  
  
“Most likely, I only hope that something like this, something that has been interfered with magically, can be treated in such ways. We’ll have to see if there’s not something any of us can do to help.”  
  
“Is this macadamia nut?!” Thalia suddenly exclaimed as an elf came by with a tray of cookies. “You are so precious, why can’t I have one of you?”  
  
The others cast her confused glances as she took a bite of said cookie. She smiled apologetically as she chewed. “Well I’m not going to let a bad situation take away from some good baking! North, back me up!”  
  
North simply took a cookie off the tray himself and said, “I will tell you again, Thalia, my Elves belong at the pole.”  
  
Thalia sighed, and soon attention slowly made its way back to the globe.  
  
“I thought these guys were supposed to be threatening the Muses,” Bunny said. “This sounds more like it’s going to hurt the kids.”  
  
“Well, here’s the thing,” Urania said. “The strongest part of each of us is our power, our ‘center,’ and working together like this, the Shadow People might be able gather enough strength to take a Muse’s power to inspire and use it for their own purposes. That’s what the stars were warning us about. They’re after  _our_  powers, specifically.”  
  
“No offense,” Jack said, “But what good will your powers do them?”  
  
“As Muses, we can manipulate thoughts and dreams so that we can inspire people,” Calliope said, clearly irritated with the need to explain everything to Jack. “However, Sanderson and I made an agreement ages ago that the Muses would  _not_ interfere with the dreams of children.”  
  
“Nightmares,” Melpomene said suddenly. “They’re riding on Pitch’s coat tails,  _picking up where he left off._  With the powers of a Muse, they’d be able to manipulate dreams and turn them into nightmares.”  
  
“And the more thoroughly the Shadow People break a person’s spirit, with nightmares and feelings of dread and paranoia… the more powerful  _they_  become,” Erato said.  
  
“With all of that in play, the kids will stop believing in us,” Bunny said.  
  
“If the children stop believing we’ll be weak enough to easily be fed on as well,” Tooth added.  
  
“Not to mention, people will no longer have the drive to create, which will weaken the rest of  _us_ ,” Calliope said. “We can give them ideas but we can’t  _make_  them create.”  
  
“And that’s beside the fact,” Urania said. “That taking our powers would kill us instantly. They’ve been working slowly to fly under the radar but they’re gaining momentum.”  
  
“So what do we, you know,  _do_  about this?” Thalia said, brushing away crumbs from her lap. “I mean, we never paid Shadow People enough attention to really learn how to get rid of them.”  
  
“They hide during the day, we’ll have to inform the others to travel and try to stay in daylight for now,” Calliope said. “To keep them  _and_  their powers safe.”  
  
“Tsar Lunar has offered his moonbeams,” Urania said. “They can easily chase the Shadow People off, even destroy some of them, but the only problem with that is they’re only as strong as the phase of the moon at the time. During a full moon they’ll be their strongest, but at the new moon they won’t be able to help at all.”  
  
“We appreciate that very much,” Calliope said, looking up to the opening in the ceiling where the moon was silently observing the meeting. The moon shined brighter if only for a moment to acknowledge Calliope’s gratitude.  
  
“So are we supposed to just lie low and hope they don’t find us? And if they do that we’ll be able to hold them off? Or that the moonbeams will be able to help?” Erato said. “I hate to admit it, but Jack made a point earlier-”  
  
“I what?” Jack said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.  
  
“Don’t make me say it again,” Erato said, bringing herself to her feet and standing beside Urania so she could better address the others. “Jack asked what I brought to the table when it came to combat. I  _don’t_  have much to offer when it comes to fighting, myself. I usually rely on my ability to coerce others to fight  _for_  me. Terpsichore, Polyhymnia, Euterpe… they had a point too, when they decided not to come. When the sun created us, he didn’t anticipate us really having to defend ourselves.”  
  
“That’s why we came to the Guardians,” Calliope said. “We can’t fight this ourselves.”  
  
“But that’s just it,” Bunny said. “We don’t know  _how_  to fight these things. We know they don’t like light but all it does is make them hide, we don’t know how to actually defeat them.”  
  
“And until we find a way to do so, you’ll all just be hiding from them, hoping they won’t try to attack,” Tooth said with a frown, her mini fairies seeming distressed as well.   
  
“Well, we might not all be targets,” Urania said, hoping to try to make the situation seem a bit less bleak. “They’ve broken up into groups, they’re looking for something specific. Probably whoever’s powers would be the most useful to them.”  
  
 _“All_  of us have the power to manipulate thoughts and dreams,” Calliope said. “It just comes down to whoever’s area of expertise they prefer. Melpomene would seem an obvious choice.”  
  
“So I’ll disguise myself,” Melpomene said, setting her mask to her face for a moment. Upon pulling the mask away she was the mirror image of Thalia, though still wearing her black gown.   
  
“I don’t know,” Thalia said, examining her new clone critically. “You were more repulsive before.”  
  
“It wouldn’t matter, they can sense your center,” North said as Melpomene placed her mask to her face once more, only to return to her previous form. “It will be difficult to eliminate them as a threat until we know more about them.”  
  
“We need to learn more about them and their weaknesses and what can be used to defeat them,” Calliope said. “We have to get  _rid_  of the threat, we can’t just keep running away.”  
  
“Not to mention, figure out which of us they’re looking for and why, so that Muse can be put under protection,” Urania said.  
  
“You all know what you need, don’t you?” Melpomene said, casually running her hand through her long, smooth hair. “There’s one man that knows the darkness better than anyone.”  
  
“We are not asking Pitch for help,” North said immediately.  
  
“You might not have a choice,” Melpomene said.  _“We_  might not have a choice.”  
  
“Did you miss the part where he tried to wipe us out?” Bunny said.  
  
“And the part where he  _killed_  Sanderson,” Calliope said, her teeth clenched. Sandy pat her on the shoulder and offered her a smile as though to assure her that he was fine.  
  
“Oh boo-hoo, all the Guardians are fine and stronger than ever,” said Melpomene, bringing herself to her feet as Erato had done earlier. “You’re all always going on about how the Guardians can’t exist without us and we can’t exist without them. You all are so quick to forget that the light can’t exist without the dark.”  
  
“We are  _not_  asking Pitch for help. He cannot be trusted,” North said sternly. Jack thought it was sort of nice to hear the older man speaking to someone  _else_  in such a way.  
  
“Fine,” she said. “Have fun trying to figure out how the Shadow People work from an outsider’s perspective, then. Hopefully none of us are stripped of our powers in the meantime.”  
  
“So what exactly  _is_  our plan until we find out what they’re after?” Jack said at last. “Just keep an eye out and try to figure out what their deal is?”  
  
“This is what we do,” North said. “Urania, you will continue gathering information. See if the stars will tell you  _anything_  else. You will be safe among their light.”  
  
He turned to Calliope. “Calliope, you will watch over the remaining Muses, do what you can to keep them out of harm’s way. Direct the moonbeams and make preparations in case a fight  _does_ become necessary. I want  _all_  Muses to be prepared.”  
  
North was now facing the Guardians and addressing them. “As for us, I will continue to work on Christmas. It must go well to keep the children believing and the rest of us strong so we will be  _able_  to help. I want the rest of you to be cautious and if you come across a Shadow Person, approach with great care and get as much information as you can. Find out if they can be approached as the Nightmares were or if we must re-evaluate our fighting strategies.”  
  
“Or, you could  _just ask Pitch,”_  Melpomene said, frustrated.  
  
“Melpomene, shut it,” Calliope snapped.  
  
“As soon as we find out who the Shadow People are after, we will place them under protection,” North said. “Until then, all we can do is learn more and be prepared for anything.”  
  
“We’d better get started, then,” Urania said. “I’m going to try and find Clio to see what she learned in the past and then I’ll head to Canis Major first, maybe I’ll find something there.”  
  
“I suppose I’ll go find Terpsichore, Polyhymnia and Euterpe,” Calliope said, bringing herself to her feet at last. She turned to Sandy and pulled him into her arms. “I hope to see you again soon, Sanderson. Under better circumstances.”  
  
The small man returned her embrace and a few more images flashed above his head.  
  
“I’ll go with you, I think,” Thalia said, holding up her mask to her face once more. “Strength in numbers and all that. Terpsichore is probably somewhere around Australia right now.”  
  
“Yeah, I saw her around, I can take you there,” Bunny said, tapping his foot on the floor so that one of his tunnels appeared. Thalia’s eyes lit up at the sight.  
  
“Thank you, Bunny, it is a long commute otherwise for those of us who can’t teleport,” Calliope said, casting a quick glance toward Thalia and Melpomene.  
  
“It’s really more of a scene change,” Thalia said with a shrug. She bid the others goodbye before stepping forward and jumping down the tunnel.  
  
“Coming, Melpomene?” Calliope asked. The Muse in question simply scoffed. Calliope rolled her eyes before turning to Erato. “What about you?”  
  
“Oh, no thank you. I was going to ask North if he’d loan me a portal,” Erato said, turning to the man. “Seeing as I can’t fly  _or_ teleport. I caught a ride on one of Sandy’s dream clouds that was passing by earlier.”  
  
She turned to Sandy and added, “I hope you don’t mind.”  
  
Images of various modes of transportation appeared above Sandy’s head and he gave her a thumbs up to show that she could do this any time.  
  
“Thank you, Sandy, I really appreciate it,” Erato said.  
  
“Yes, I can spare a snow globe, where are you headed, Erato?” North said.  
  
“Paris,” she said with a smile. “What better place to hide from darkness than the city of lights?”  
  
“Good choice. Phil?” North said, turning to the nearby yeti. “Take Erato to the snow globes and give her one on the  _lower_ shelves. Trying to clear the ones the elves can reach out.”  
  
Erato followed the Yeti and Urania shot through the ceiling with a flash after bidding her own farewells. After pecking Sandy on the cheek, Calliope disappeared within Bunny’s tunnel, and Bunny followed shortly after.  
  
As Sandy and Tooth bid their farewells and left the same way they came in, Jack barely noticed a figure nearby, being preoccupied in saying goodbye to Baby Tooth who flew after Tooth.  
  
“Oh, Jack, it’s been so long,” Melpomene purred, suddenly beside him, her mask held loosely in her hand. He jumped at the sound and turned to face her. They went unnoticed by North and the Yetis who went straight back to work on the Christmas preparations once the other guests left.  
  
“Not long enough,” Jack said shortly, taking a step to the side in an attempt to get away from her.  
  
“You avoided me the  _whole_   _meeting_ , Jack, is that any way to treat-” she began.  
  
“You? Yes,” Jack said, avoiding her gaze and continuing to walk away from her. Unfortunately she quickly placed her mask to her face and re-appeared in front of him, blocking his path.  
  
“What’s the matter? Still mad?” she said, pulling away her mask. A sick little smile was pulling at her lips, which Jack chose to focus on rather than her eyes. “I didn’t realize you were one for grudges. It’s not attractive.”  
  
“I’m certainly not going to start expecting anything  _good_  to happen around you,” Jack said. Pitch had once told him that he made a mess wherever he went. Jack was beginning to wonder how Pitch could say such a thing about Jack if he knew Melpomene.  
  
“Oh come now, it’s been centuries,” she said.  
  
“Melpomene,” came North’s voice. He approached the pair and Jack found himself relaxing slightly. “Why are you still here?”  
  
“Oh, just catching up with my friend here,” Melpomene said, running a long, skinny finger along the edge of Jack’s jaw, smirking as frost covered her hand. “Oh, so defensive.”  
  
“Yes, well, you seem to have caught up plenty,” North said, narrowing his eyes at the woman who returned the gesture. She placed her mask to her face and vanished once more without so much as a goodbye. North turned his attention to Jack. “Be careful around that one.”  
  
“You don’t have to tell me,” Jack muttered.  
  
“What has it been centuries since?” North asked, referring to Melpomene’s early comment.  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck and watching the elves rush by with more supplies. “It’s not that great a story anyway.”  
  
“Speaking of stories…”  
  
“Are you really gonna lecture me about Rowan now? Because it looks like you’re busy and I should probably go,” Jack said, gesturing to the rest of the workshop as if North had forgotten about the extensive work being done.  
  
“Jack, please listen to me,” North said. “If Miss Sawyer is okay with you visiting there is not much I can do. However, you cannot get tied up in these stories and forget what is important. She cannot become a distraction, and-”  
  
“If you’re gonna go on about how she’s mortal and going to die, I already got this lecture from Bunny, you two should compare notes sometime,” Jack said, completely leaving out the part where Bunny had suggested discussing the matter further with North.  
  
“Jack, growing attached-” North began.  
  
“Will only end badly for me, I told you, I heard this already. I have my own way of dealing with this, I really don’t need your help when it comes to Rowan,” Jack said. “Now, I’ve got blizzards to cause, some kids are due for a snowday.”  
  
“Fine, but this conversation with continue at a later time,” North said as another yeti appeared with something else for him to sign. He was obviously much too busy to lecture Jack now, which Jack was thankful for.   
  
Kicking off the ground, Jack flew out of the opening in the ceiling, bidding the North Pole a farewell for now.


	11. Think Happy Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, new chapter, new chapter! This one isn't quite as intense but the Muses will be back next time for sure. Gotta give Rowan some spotlight again, I think.

_“He’s just this boy I met in Burgess.”_

* * *

 

**Chapter Eleven: Think Happy Thoughts**

* * *

  
  
Rowan fastened her scarf around her neck, bracing herself for the cold as she stepped outside. She stuffed her hands into her pockets as she carefully made her way down the steps outside the building, eyes focused on the ground as she tried not to slip.  
  
“It’s Saturday.”  
  
Rowan looked up from the pavement, barely getting a chance to wonder who was stating the obvious before her brown eyes caught a pair of icy blues directly in front of her.  
  
“It is,” she acknowledged, walking around Jack, who was hovering directly in her path. It was snowing, but lightly, on campus today.  
  
“So why are you at school?” he asked, falling into step beside her, his staff propped against his shoulder as he walked.  
  
“I got into the winter show, I had to come in either today or tomorrow to hang my piece. I didn’t want to do it today but I _certainly_  won’t want to do it tomorrow,” Rowan replied, stopping short as a few students carrying some strange looking sculptures, a large, blank canvas with a lot of slashes in it, and a few smaller paintings passed. They watched her quizzically as they passed before whispering among themselves after they believed to be out of earshot.  
  
“Yeah, just a reminder, no one else knows you’re talking to me,” Jack said with amusement as Rowan sighed in frustration.  
  
“Great, now the  _fine artists_  think I’m crazy,” she mumbled. Jack laughed.  
  
“Oh man, this means you can’t talk to me in public, huh? This could be fun,” he said. She raised a brow at him and opened her mouth, but immediately closed it as another student walked by.  
  
“So what did you get into the show? Judging by the snow sculptures at this school – very realistic, I might add – and the paintings those guys were carrying, it probably had something to do with genitals.”  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes.  
  
“Was it male or female?”  
  
Rowan simply cast him an annoyed glance as they continued walking.  
  
“Both? That’s ambitious. Did you use photo references or live models?”  
  
Rowan crossed her arms and bit her lip, trying desperately not to respond. There were still other students prowling around. In the next moment, however, her eyes lit up and she began searching through her coat and jean pockets.  
  
“What are you looking for?” Jack asked.  
  
“Aha,” she said, pulling her cell phone from her pocket, holding it up before Jack with a smirk. She fiddled with the touch screen for a moment before putting it to her ear. “Now I can talk to you and no one will know a thing.”  
  
“I appreciate the lengths you’re going through to keep talking to me, I knew you liked me,” Jack said, smug.  
  
“Oh, you think you’re real special,” Rowan said, her phone still to her ear. “This is only so I can get a word in edgewise without seeming insane.”  
  
“What happens if the phone rings?”  
  
“It’s on silent. Now, for your information, I am majoring in Illustration with an emphasis on  _Children’s Books_ , so no, my submitted piece did not involve anything explicit.”  
  
“So you’ve  _never_  painted a penis?” Jack asked skeptically.  
  
“Do you mean have I ever directly applied paint  _to_  one or have I painted a rendition of one?” Rowan said, bored.  
  
“The second one. Well, the first one too,” Jack said, furrowing his brow as he considered this.  
  
“I haven’t done the first one but I have done the second one. Life drawing is a part of my core curriculum,” she said. “You seem  _awfully_  interested in representations of male sex organs.”  
  
“I’m interested in how many naked people  _in general_  you’ve drawn,” he said with a shrug.  
  
“How can someone over three hundred years old be so immature?” she said, rolling her eyes.  
  
“I’m not immature! I’m… curious?” Jack said. “I mean, is it strange just going to class and having a nude model hanging out there?”  
  
“It’s not really a big deal, you get used to it really fast,” she explained. “And they’re only nude when they’re posing. During breaks they at least wear a robe. It’s all very professional.”  
  
“Any of them at least attractive?” he couldn’t help but ask.  
  
“Nope,” she said simply, smiling slightly.  
  
“Shame,” he said. The pair was silent for a moment before he added, “Oh, and happy birthday.”  
  
Rowan seemed surprised that he had remembered. “Oh, uh, thank you.”  
  
“Doing anything for the occasion?” he asked.  
  
“Going to dinner with some of my friends,” she replied with a slight shrug of the shoulders. “Nothing too big. It’s still the middle of finals.”  
  
“I thought you were almost done.”  
  
 _“_ I finished  _my_  projects; next week is all critique. Shirley and Adam still have a lot to do before that, as per usual.”  
  
“When is dinner going to be over?” Jack asked.  
  
“I don’t know, probably no later than nine, why?”  
  
“I’m gonna visit,” he said simply. “It’s been a good few days since I’ve dropped by, been busy with Guardian stuff.”  
  
“Yeah, two whole days of bothering someone else. My life has been so empty while you’ve been gone,” Rowan said dramatically.  
  
“I know, I know, you’ve missed me terribly,” he said, placing a hand to his hip and walking with more poise than he had before.  
  
Rowan laughed. “Yeah, Jack, my life has no meaning without you, if only you knew how much I yearn for your company.”  
  
“Who’s Jack?”  
  
Rowan turned to find Shirley walking with a tall, lanky blond boy with glasses. Rowan quickly glanced at Jack and then her phone before hastily saying, “I’ve, uh, got to go,” and pretending to hang up the phone.  
  
“Wow, Rowan, don’t even tell the guy bye,” the boy said.  
  
“Adam’s right,” Shirley said, though she seemed impressed. “Are you playing hard to get? Who  _is_  this Jack person?”  
  
“Is it the same Jack you’ve been drawing all week?” Adam asked.  
  
“You’ve been drawing me? And haven’t shown me?” Jack said, appalled. Rowan sighed, frustrated at the amount of questions coming at her at once.  
  
“Jack Overland,” she said after a brief moment of thought. She couldn’t exactly tell her friends she was talking to an invisible winter spirit. “He’s just this boy I met in Burgess.”  
  
“And named a character after?” Shirley said.  
  
“What are you even doing here, it’s Saturday,” Rowan said suddenly, sliding her hands into her pockets.  
  
“We need to use the printers,” Adam said with a shrug.   
  
“You’re avoiding the question, Birthday Girl. Is Jack Overland the same Jack from your drawings?” Shirley asked, nudging Rowan with her elbow. “Come on, I want details.”  
  
“Well,” Rowan started, glancing back at Jack for a moment, who seemed very amused at the situation. “He’s got a very  _strong_ personality. It was kind of hard  _not_  to base a character on him.”  
  
“‘Strong personality,’ is that a euphemism for something?” Adam asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
“Okay, but  _does he look like your drawings,”_  Shirley asked as though this was the most important question that she could possibly ask.  
  
“A bit,” Rowan said vaguely.  
  
“Damn,” Shirley said, pulling out her phone and beginning to slide her finger across the screen. “I gotta look him up and see what the real thing looks like.”  
  
“What is she looking me up on?” Jack asked, knowing very well that Rowan couldn’t answer him.  
  
“You won’t find him,” Rowan said. “I mean, there’ll probably be a few people with that name, but he’s… not into social networking.”  
  
“Wise man,” Adam said. “I’ve been meaning to get rid of my facebook profile for ages but the games keep me there. Gotta defend my tetris score”  
  
“Well tell him to send you a picture,” Shirley said, holding up her phone. “Because I want to see him. If he’s  _half_  as cute as your drawings…”  
  
“Cute, huh?” Jack said, his smile growing even more smug if possible.  _“Am_  I as cute as your drawings, Rowan?”  
  
“Oh, he must be, or you wouldn’t be turning so red,” Shirley teased as Rowan blushed at both Jack and Shirley’s comments.  
  
“It’s the cold,” Rowan said immediately.  
  
“Is it the cold or is it hot, steamy thoughts of Jack Overland?” Shirley whispered suggestively. Rowan buried her face in her hands as Jack began to laugh. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this guy earlier! We’re supposed to be best friends!”  
  
“I’ll tell you about him at dinner, you guys have to print stuff, don’t you?” Rowan asked, wanting to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.  
  
“Fine, fine, Miss Responsibility,” Shirley said with a groan. “We’ll pick you up at seven!”  
  
“Provided my car starts,” Adam clarified as Shirley took him by the hand and started toward the library.  
  
“Sounds good,” Rowan said, nervously beginning a small braid in her hair.  
  
“Happy Birthday, Rowan!” Shirley called back to her.  
  
“Two decades!” Adam added.  
  
“Thank you,” she called back, watching them until they reached the library doors. As soon as they disappeared inside the building, Rowan immediately headed for the parking lot.  
  
“I didn’t realize I had been on your mind so much,” Jack teased, flying beside her.  
  
Rowan opened her mouth to respond but seemed to think better of it, simply groaning and shaking her head as she continued walking toward her car. She pulled her lanyard with her keys from her pocket.  
  
“Aw, lost for words? Don’t feel bad, I mean,  _lots_  of girls get flustered talking to cute boys,” Jack said with a smirk.  
  
Rowan stopped beside her driver’s side door and gaped at him for a moment, unable to actually form a proper response to Jack’s statement until she spat out, “Oh, you think you’re cute, do you?”  
  
“I think your friend thinks I’m cute,” Jack said, smug. “And I think  _you_  think I’m cute.”  
  
“You want to know what I think?”  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“I think your ears are too big,” Rowan said, beginning to tick her statements off her fingertips. “I think you’re so skinny that if you weren’t some immortal whatever-the-hell, I’d suggest you go see a doctor. I think you’re a sickly shade of pale. I think your eyebrows don’t match your hair. I think you’ve got the most smug smile I’ve ever seen, and every time I see it, I want to smack it off your face.”  
  
Jack touched one of his ears for a moment before saying, “Please. All of those things are adorable, and you know it.”  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes and opened her car door, sliding inside and starting the car so it could warm up. She leaned back in her seat and rubbed her temples, eyes closed. How had she managed to attract such an  _annoying_  spirit?  
  
Jack knocked on Rowan’s window and she reached over to roll it down. “What?” she demanded.  
  
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Jack said simply, still smirking. Rowan decided not to respond verbally and instead began rolling the window back up as he laughed.  
  
However, she couldn’t help the small smile dancing across her own lips.

* * *

  
  
It was dark outside and Rowan had barely stepped back inside her apartment when there came a tapping on her window. Pulling out her phone, she glanced at the screen to find that it was a few minutes past nine, just as she expected it would be. She locked her apartment door before walking toward the window, dropping her keys on the table as she passed before pocketing her phone once more.  
  
She pulled her curtains aside and smiled, finding exactly who she expected outside the window. After taking a second to fiddle with the lock, she slid the window open and stepped aside to allow Jack to glide inside the room.  
  
“Hello again,” she said, closing the window. “It’s been  _so_  long.”  
  
“Decades, how old are you now?” Jack said, settling himself down on her couch.  
  
“Still younger than you,” Rowan replied, unbuttoning her pea coat and sliding it off her shoulders. She draped it over one of the chairs near the table.  
  
“You might want to put the coat back on,” Jack advised casually, picking up a book that was on the other couch cushion and skimming over the back of it.  
  
“Oh?” Rowan asked. “How come?”  
  
“I’m taking you flying,” he said. “For your birthday.”  
  
“Oh no, you’re not,” Rowan said, shaking hear head.  
  
“Come  _on_ ,” Jack said, setting the book down. “Your cousin loves it.”  
  
“My cousin is in elementary school and doesn’t consider the possibility of falling to his death,” she pointed out.  
  
“I’m not going to let you fall, trust me!”  
  
“Why should I?” she asked seriously, walking to the fridge and pulling out a water bottle.  
  
“Why  _shouldn’t_  you?” he asked, standing up and walking over to her kitchen counter.  
  
“I’ve known you for less than a week, this could be some kind of elaborate trick to take me somewhere I’ll be devoured by a yeti or something,” Rowan said. “Not to mention, your name is Jack.”  
  
“It’s not an elaborate trick, yetis don’t eat people, and what is  _that_  supposed to mean?” Jack asked, confused about what his name had to do with anything.  
  
Rowan took a drink of her water before shrugging and simply stating, “You can’t trust anyone named Jack.”  
  
“Name one Jack you can’t trust,” Jack challenged.  
  
“Jack the Ripper, serial killer,” Rowan responded immediately.  
  
“Well, okay, that’s one. And who knows if his name was even really Jack,” he said, waving off this response with his hand.  
  
“Jack from  _Jack and the Beanstalk._  All he had to do was sell a cow and he comes back with a fist full of beans.”  
  
“Yeah but it worked out in the end.”  
  
“He  _robbed and killed the giant._  And regardless, he couldn’t be trusted with a simple task. Then there’s Jack Sparrow-”  
  
 _“Captain_  Jack Sparrow.”  
  
“Whatever. You couldn’t trust that guy at all.”  
  
“I feel like that’s more to do with the ‘pirate’ thing than the ‘Jack’ thing.”  
  
“Jack and Jill, they were just supposed to get some water but got themselves killed.”  
  
“That might not have been all  _Jack’s_  fault.”  
  
“Jack Skellington, pretty much stole Christmas, had Santa Claus kidnapped, and wouldn’t listen to Sally until after he messed everything up.”  
  
“Oh come on, these past few Jacks aren’t even  _real,”_  Jack said with a frustrated sigh.  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rowan said, “But are you really going to stand there, being  _Jack Frost_  and tell me that Jack Skellington doesn’t exist? Maybe you just ‘ _don’t believe.’”_  
  
Jack opened his mouth to respond but soon realized he didn’t actually have an argument against that and settled for rolling his eyes, something he was doing a lot lately. Rowan simply smirked before taking another drink of her water.  
  
She wiped water from her chin before continuing. “Captain Jack, heroin dealer. Jack with the candlestick, what the hell is he doing playing with fire? Jack Dawson- well he just had some terrible luck, honestly, but he just proves you should never travel with a Jack.”  
  
She walked over to her bookshelf and pulled out a leather bound book, opening it to a marked page. Jack followed her to this part of the apartment as she continued. “And let’s not forget: ‘Jack Frost. Freezing cold personified, prone to mischief and happiest when there are no obligations or responsibilities to fulfill. Some legends portray him as a benevolent being who wishes only to spread cheer, while others suggest a more vengeful spirit, responsible for hypothermia and other winter-related deaths.’”  
  
“I’m the Guardian of  _Fun,”_ Jack reminded her. “Besides, you don’t believe any of that ‘Jack Frost kills his victims by attacking them with the cold’ stuff.”  
  
“How can you be so sure I don’t?” Rowan asked, setting her book back on the shelf.  
  
“Once again, the lady doth protest too much,” Jack said casually, plopping back down on her couch and holding his hands out before him. He smiled as he began creating shapes out of snow and frost. “You have all your made-up reasons behind not trusting me, but I think when it comes down to it, in your gut, you  _do_  trust me.”  
  
“Oh really?” Rowan said, unable to help but walk closer to watch as the frost swirling between his hands began to take form. “You sure do think highly of yourself.”  
  
“If you didn’t trust me,” Jack said. “You wouldn’t let me back into your apartment. You would  _definitely_  be trying to get Jamie to cut off contact with me.”  
  
Jack now held an icy representation of a bird in his hands. He released it and smiled as Rowan watched it fly around her apartment in awe.  
  
“Not to mention, you keep acting like you can barely stand me or you’re still mad about me breaking in, and if  _this_  were true,” Jack said, standing up and taking a few paces so that he could stand beside her. “Why would you be drawing pictures of me so much and pretending to talk on your cell phone so you could keep talking to me in public?”  
  
“That was because you were being annoying and ignoring you wasn’t going to work,” Rowan said, her eyes still fixed on the bird, which performed fantastic twirls through the air before bursting into light snow falling throughout the apartment.  
  
“Put your jacket back on,” Jack said. “I’m taking you flying.”  
  
“I just explained to you why that’s a bad idea,” Rowan sighed.  
  
“Yeah but you didn’t mean any of it,” he said with a shrug.  
  
“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t mean,” she said, eyes narrowed. “It’s getting old really fast.”  
  
“Fine, fine, but we both know you’re just scared,” Jack said casually. “Wait until Jamie finds out that his cousin’s a big chicken.”  
  
“I’m not  _scared,_  I just don’t want to gamble with my  _life_ ,” Rowan insisted, stepping away from Jack.  
  
“Do you ever do  _anything_  without analyzing all the risks first? Seriously though, you seem to think you have everything figured out, and where’s the fun in that?” Jack asked.  
  
“Living to see the day  _after_  my twentieth birthday, maybe?”  
  
“Come on, Rowan,” Jack said, hovering over to her. “You’ve  _never_  wanted to fly? Never wondered what it’s like?”  
  
“Look, Peter Pan, this isn’t a matter of thinking happy thoughts and aiming for a star just because you liked some of my stories,” Rowan said, leaning against her counter. “I’m not a child! I have other things to worry about, I can’t just drop everything and go to Neverland with you.”  
  
“I promise to have you back without a scratch and with plenty of time to do whatever boring grown-up stuff you have to do, _Wendy,”_  Jack said. “Put your jacket back on.”  
  
“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?”  
  
“I know you want to go.”  
  
“Don’t tell me what I want!”  
  
“Are you really going to stand there and act like you don’t have a Peter Pan tattoo?” Jack asked, taking her left wrist in his hand and holding it up as though she might have forgotten the two stars permanently etched there. The one on the right slightly larger than the one on the left. “Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning?”  
  
“So I like the story, that doesn’t mean I want to be Wendy,” Rowan said, taking her wrist back from Jack.  
  
“I think it means you want to fly,” he said. “And there’s no shame in that.”  
  
Rowan was silent for a moment, her gaze locked with Jack’s as though considering what he had said. Finally, she grabbed for her peacoat and began to pull it back on.  
  
“Fine,” she said, fastening the buttons on her coat. “But  _never_  call me Wendy again.”  
  
“Deal,” Jack said, grinning. Rowan took a stripped scarf from a hook on her wall and fastened it around her neck before pulling on a pair of fingerless gloves.  
  
“How do we do this?” she asked finally.  
  
“Well, I can’t tug you around by your arm like I do with Jamie. The weight difference will probably throw that off,” Jack said thoughtfully. He turned so his back was facing her and said, “Just hang on to my shoulders, we should be fine.”  
  
 _“Should_  be fine?” Rowan winced.  
  
“Trust me!” Jack laughed.  
  
“So I’m supposed to just climb on your back and you’ll go right ahead and show off? This is starting to feel really  _Twilight,_  and that’s not really a good thing,” Rowan said.  
  
“Obviously not, I’m  _much_  more attractive than that weird British guy in those movies. Now, come  _on!”_  
  
Rowan hesitated. If she went with him there was no turning back. The thought of flying with him both terrified and excited her, and right now she wasn’t really sure which emotion was going to win out.  
  
When was she ever going to get a chance to fly again?  
  
Finally she took a deep breath and stepped forward, hesitantly sliding her arms around him, clutching his shoulders. He was cold to the touch and she noticed the fabric of her gloves developing frosted patterns.  
  
“Ready?” he asked.  
  
“As I’ll ever be,” she said. The wind picked up outside and suddenly her window slid open with a  _bang_.  
  
“Hang on!” Jack laughed before kicking off the ground and sending both of them toward the now-open window. Rowan immediately shut her eyes and clung tighter to the boy if at all possible. She felt the sting of the cold air on her cheeks and soon heard the sound of her window slamming shut behind them.  
  
“Open your eyes, you’re gonna miss everything!” Jack said, the laughter still in his voice. Rowan forced her eyes open, finding that she had buried her face in the back of Jack’s hood. Slowly she turned her head and watched as they climbed higher in the sky and the lights of the town below became smaller.  
  
“Holy shit,” she mumbled, her breath clouding in front of her. She was  _actually_  several hundred feet in the air with nothing but Jack holding her up. Her stomach hadn’t stopped doing flips since they reached the outdoors. Her heart was pounding so rapidly that she was certain it would burst out of her chest if Jack wasn’t immediately blocking its way out.  
  
Jack took a sharp turn and began flying away from town, now that he had reached the level of altitude that he desired. “Nice view, huh?”  
  
“Where are we going?” Rowan asked, realizing it was something she should have asked  _before_  they left. She took a moment to wonder just how odd they must have looked, with her practically lying on top of him while he glided through the air.  
  
“I don’t know yet, that’s part of the fun,” Jack replied. “Ever been to Europe?”  
  
“No, but it’s not like you can get us all the way there, right?” Rowan asked.  
  
“That sounds like a challenge to me!” Jack said, and before Rowan could respond, the wind picked up and they began shooting through the air even more quickly than before. Rowan’s nails now dug into the fabric of Jack’s hoodie and her heart somehow managed to pound even faster.  
  
“We’re not  _really_  going to Europe,” Rowan said, her tone half a statement and half questioning. All previous notions of what was and was not impossible were becoming more and more meaningless the more time she spent with Jack.  
  
“You’ll see,” was Jack’s only response and soon they were losing altitude, flying no more than two feet above a seemingly endless stretch of water. The moon, which seemed brighter than usual, lit their way. Jack froze some waves every now and again with his staff, delighted at the abstract shapes they formed.  
  
“Please tell me we’re not flying over the  _Atlantic_  right now,” Rowan said, though she could taste the salt in the air.  
  
“I would, but that would be a lie,” Jack said. “Stop worrying so much, we’ll be fine!”  
  
“You’re right, Jack, no one has  _ever_  suffered an icy death in the Atlantic before,” Rowan said sarcastically. Jack simply smiled before spinning around in the air so that Rowan was now hanging above the water.  
  
She let out a small shriek and clutched him tighter, her knees gripping the sides of his thighs so that she wouldn’t fall in. Jack laughed again, spinning once more so that he was between Rowan and the ocean again.  
  
“Don’t ever do that again!” she whined. “Do you know how many nightmares I’ve had about drowning?”  
  
“Sorry!” Jack said, though the amusement was still clear in his voice. “Don’t know how to swim?”  
  
“I do, but I’d rather not right now,” she said, wincing as Jack swerved in order to avoid being hit by a large wave.  
  
“Okay, okay, we’ll fly up higher, but you’ve gotta see something first,” Jack said, flying a few yards higher than he had been and hovering upright, staring down at the surface for a moment.  
  
“What are we looking for?” she asked, following his gaze to the dark water below them.  
  
“Wait for it…” he said, grinning.  
  
A dark, smooth object, visible only thanks to the moon, came to the surface and released soft spray of water before disappearing beneath the surface again. This action was repeated in a few other areas before a tail emerged from the water for only a moment before submerging once more.  
  
“We were a few feet above some  _whales_  this whole time?” Rowan said, unsure how she felt about this.  
  
“Give them a second, the humpbacks like to show off,” Jack said.  
  
Sure enough, one of the massive creatures flung itself almost entirely from the water, landing with a giant splash on its back. Jack quickly dodged the splash, just in time for another whale to lunge forward. She basked in the moonlight as she spun through the air before landing on her back as well.  
  
“This is insanity,” Rowan said, finally finding her voice after watching the whales with her mouth agape. “We’re  _so close.”_  
  
“Race ya!” Jack called to the whales before beginning to fly off in the direction that the whales had been headed in. Another whale completely emerged from the water beside them, and Rowan swore it almost looked as though it were smiling at the pair before falling back to the water. Jack barely managed to miss the resulting splash again.  
  
Up ahead, another whale began to break the water’s surface and Jack quickly reminded Rowan to hang on before speeding forward, flying close to the water’s surface as they had earlier. Rowan didn’t even have a chance to ask Jack what exactly he was doing before she found the two of them flying directly beneath the breaching whale, icy water dripping off the creature and onto them.  
  
They barely cleared the area below the whale before he crashed back to the surface.  
  
“That whale could have  _crushed_  us,” she said, looking back at the area where the creature had re-entered the water.  
  
 _“Could_ have,” Jack reminded her.  _“Didn’t.”_  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes, feeling the water that had dripped onto her hair freezing in the frigid air. “This is insane.”  
  
“You need a new adjective,” Jack laughed, flying off to the side to avoid yet another splash from a nearby whale.  
  
“Well it is!” Rowan said, laughing as well. “We were almost crushed by a humpback whale! This is…  _amazing.”_  
  
“There you go! We also would have accepted ‘phenomenal,’ ‘incredible,’ ‘wonderful,’ and ‘spectacular,’” Jack said, smiling as the whales continued their show.  
  
“Do you do this all the time?” she had to ask as he leaned down and touched the fin that one of the whales had stuck out of the water, as though to offer the winter spirit a high five.  
  
“Every now and again,” Jack replied, climbing higher in the air once more. The next whale to breach seemed to be attempting to reach the same heights but fell short.  
  
“We’ll fly with them a little while longer,” he said. “Then I’ll find somewhere we can land for a while.”


	12. Searching

_“You don’t know?” North said, eyes wide, for the first time seeming quite appalled at the women before him.  “How can you not know?”_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Searching**

* * *

  
“I think a ten minute break will do you some good, North… you’re going to brush after you finish those cookies, right?” Tooth said, as she hovered near the man at his workbench. North had bags under his eyes from working in the factory for who knows how many hours (possibly days) straight, but the warmth and wonder was still present behind those eyes. He smiled at the fairy’s comment.  
  
“Of course, Tooth,” he said, reaching for another cookie from the tray and dunking it into the mug of milk in front of him. Urania and Calliope stood on the other side of the table, watching the man with concern.  
  
“Have you slept at all?” Calliope asked.  
  
“Do not worry about me. It always gets tiring once December hits, I will be fine,” North assured them before biting into his cookie. “I will sleep soon, and give Phil some instructions so he may run things a few hours.”  
  
“Good to hear,” Urania said.  
  
“Why have you only called  _us_  together for this meeting?” Tooth asked the Muses, her mini fairies fluttering around the room to examine North’s prototypes.  
  
“I didn’t think it was entirely necessary for  _everyone_  to be at this one. Besides, it took a while to actually get to the point at the last meeting,” Urania explained.  
  
“What have you found out?” North asked, brushing some crumbs from the surface of his table.  
  
“Well, after talking to Clio and searching the stars further… well, it’s actually pretty obvious who the Shadow People are after,” Urania said. “Which Muse has power which is under virtually  _no_  protection? Power that is uncontrollable, and at times unstable? Power that could  _very easily_  be taken and manipulated for the Shadow People’s use?”  
  
The others grew silent, knowing very well what Urania was talking about. North seemed worried, the pace at which he was chewing slowing down considerably. Finally Tooth spoke up.  
  
“So,” she said. “They’re after the Mortal Muse.”  
  
“Exactly,” Urania said.  
  
“Well we shall place her under protection immediately! She may come to the pole if she must!” North said, clearly passionate about the issue. “We will schedule shifts for the yetis to watch her if necessary.”  
  
“Who is it?” Tooth asked.  
  
Calliope and Urania exchanged nervous glances.  
  
“Well…” Urania started, hesitantly.  
  
“You don’t  _know?”_  North said, eyes wide, for the first time seeming quite appalled at the women before him. “How can you not know?”  
  
“A Mortal Muse hasn’t made the transformation to Full Muse in  _centuries_ ,” Calliope explained, her voice giving away her embarrassment. “Euterpe was the last one to become a Full Muse and that was so long ago I doubt even  _she_  remembers the exact date.”  
  
“We sort of stopped keeping track,” Urania elaborated. “Especially after… well, you know.”  
  
“Yelena. I know,” North said, the serious nature of his voice sending a chill through everyone. “I know better than anyone.”  
  
“We just felt at that point that it was best not to get attached,” Calliope said, her tone gentle for once, her expression sympathetic.  
  
“Do you know anything about this one?” Tooth asked, hoping to bring the topic back to the present, rather than dwelling over what had happened in the past.  
  
“Well, obviously she’ll be female, they always are,” Urania said. “I’m not sure how old she is or  _where_  she is, but I  _was_  able to find out that she’s a Sagittarius. So, that narrows it down a little bit, at least. The Sun was able to clear  _that_  up for me, but he knows just about as much as we do.”  
  
“As soon as I come in contact with her, I’ll  _know_  it’s her,” Calliope assured the others. “I just… need to figure out where to start looking.”  
  
North stood suddenly and walked to the door of his workshop and called out to one of the yetis. He returned shortly with the yeti he had called following him closely behind.  
  
“I think we can help you,” North said.  
  
“How so?” Urania asked.  
  
“Every child that ever celebrated Christmas is in my records,” he said, reaching for yet another cookie from the tray. “Along with whether they are naughty or nice, their favorite color, their favorite toys… as well as their birthday and their location.”  
  
Calliope and Urania’s eyes lit up.  
  
“So, provided the Mortal Muse ever wrote you a letter,” Calliope said. “She’ll be on your list somewhere.”  
  
“Exactly,” North said. He gestured to the yeti beside him. “Joe can get you a list, and then you will have somewhere to start.”  
  
“Thank you, Nicholas, this is so helpful,” Calliope said, seeming as though a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders.  
  
North turned to Joe, the yeti, and said, “Take Calliope to the master list, I want you to make her a copy with filtered results. This list should have every living girl from both naughty and nice who is a Sagittarius. Be sure to include location.”  
  
The yeti began babbling as Calliope walked around the table to meet him  
  
“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll let you know what dates Sagittarius is when we get there. Thank you so much for your help.”  
  
“You start the search, then,” Urania said, walking toward the nearby window. “I’ll find the other Muses and fill them in.”  
  
“Tooth,” North said. “Would you mind terribly playing messenger for the other Guardians so they know what is happening?”  
  
“Not a problem!” Tooth said, her mini fairies hovering beside her again as she prepared to fly out the window that Urania had just opened. “Besides, I want to talk to Jack, anyway. I feel like there’s so much that he still doesn’t know, I figure someone should give him a crash course on the Muses.”  
  
“Please do,” Calliope said as the yeti held open the factory door for her. “Explaining everything to him is exhausting.”  
  
“Let’s head out!” Urania said, shooting out of the window and across the sky.  
  
“Come on, ladies, we’ll fill Bunny in first,” Tooth said. She and her mini fairies rushed out the open window, the light of the moon guiding their way.

* * *

  
  
Once Rowan’s boots hit the snow, she released her death grip on Jack’s shoulders and walked on unsteady legs, trying to get reacquainted with being on solid ground. Jack rubbed his shoulder where Rowan had been hanging onto him and walked with her, smirking as she kept turning about to look at everything around them.  
  
“Stonehenge,” she breathed, approaching the stone closest to her, examining it in the blue light emitting from Jack’s staff and the unusually bright moon in the clear sky. “This is so eerie. This is so-! Are we even allowed to be here? In the middle of this?”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Jack said simply. “But it’s about three in the morning here, no one’s going to know.”  
  
“They’d better not, because the authorities can see  _me_  and that would be interesting to try to explain,” Rowan said, reaching forward and brushing her fingers against one of the massive stones, if for no other reason than the fact that she’d likely never get the opportunity again. “‘So here’s the thing, Officer, Jack Frost flew me here from the United States without a passport and just dropped me here in the middle of one of your grandest national treasures, not to mention one of the great wonders of the world.’ That’d go over real well.”  
  
“Stop worrying so much! If you’d rather  _not_  experience this because of the very small chance you’ll end up in a foreign prison, I could always take you to like, a forest or something boring,” Jack said with a shrug.  
  
“A forest? Once more, how very  _Twilight_. You’re not going to start sparkling, are you?”  
  
“I’ll try not to,” Jack laughed. “Just admit it, you’re having fun. And the fact that we’re here and we’re not supposed to be here makes it  _more_  fun.”  
  
“Yeah, okay, so maybe I am,” Rowan said reluctantly. “You’ve managed to show me a good time.”  
  
“Well, I  _am_  the Guardian of Fun.”  
  
“That you are,” she said, rolling her eyes at his title.  
  
“If I can get  _you_  to have fun, I figure I can handle anything,” he said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Are you saying I’m no fun?” Rowan asked, feigning offense, turning from the stones to look at him at last.  
  
“I’m saying you’re way too cautious to be any fun on your own,” Jack challenged. “You were ready to skip out on tonight if I hadn’t peer-pressured you into it.”  
  
“So what, I can’t be spontaneous?”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Jack said, shaking his head, still smiling at her. Rowan approached him and glared for a good few moments, arms crossed before her and considering her next move.  
  
She shoved him backwards, nearly making him fall and began running off in the opposite direction, dodging between the stones. “Tag!” she shouted. “You’re it! No flying!”  
  
Jack watched her rush off in confusion for a few seconds, as though trying to figure out what exactly just happened before smirking and running after her. Rowan stumbled, finding the several inches of snow difficult to run in but had gotten enough of a head start from Jack that she was confident she’d be able to keep away from him at least for a while.  
  
That is, until she went sliding across a sheet of ice that appeared out of nowhere and landed face-first into the snow in front of her. She groaned, pulling herself up to a seated position in time for Jack to approach her.  
  
“You all right?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, no thanks to-,” she started.  
  
“Good,” he replied before he reached over to tap her shoulder, and soon ran off again while shouting, “You’re it!”  
  
“You cheater!” she called after him.  
  
“You didn’t say ‘no powers!’” he laughed, coming to a halt considering that Rowan hadn’t even brought herself to her feet yet.  
  
Rowan busied herself momentarily by brushing the snow off of her coat before starting after Jack again. He remained standing where he was, faking a yawn as she approached, waiting until she was no more than five feet away before finally deciding to run off.  
  
Rowan cursed her lack of speed as she continued rushing after Jack, her breath clouding in front of her as she went. She had never been very fast, she’d always been picked last in team sports in her childhood. And her winter boots? Definitely not made for running.  
  
She made a sharp turn around one of the stones, hoping to head Jack off as he turned up ahead and was pleased to find herself actually catching up with him somehow. As they approached the center of the monument again, the thought crossed her mind that Jack might be running slower on purpose but shook it from her mind. She reached forward, having every intention of tagging the spirit back.  
  
What happened instead was Rowan failing to properly judge the distance or her speed and crashing straight into Jack, causing both of them to lose their balance and fall over into the snow.  
  
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Rowan said, brushing snow off her face. “And now I’ve face-planted twice, maybe that should be the end of this game.”  
  
“We’re not really evenly matched anyway,” Jack said, stretching slightly and making himself comfortable, still sprawled out in the snow.  
  
“Well if you wouldn’t  _cheat,”_  Rowan said, rolling her eyes and lying back in the snow as well, eyes fixed on the night sky. “Is the moon really bright tonight or is it just because we’re away from the city?”  
  
“It’s partially that, I’m sure,” Jack said, glancing up at the moon as well, wondering what Manny thought about Jack not especially doing anything productive toward figuring out the Shadow People. “But the Man in the Moon is also on the look out for the Shadow People right now.”  
  
“Shadow People?” Rowan asked, turning her head to watch Jack. “You mean those ghost things that you see for like a split second and then they disappear?”  
  
“Yeah, they also pretty much suck out your soul if they get too powerful,” Jack said. “We had a whole meeting about it a few days ago, they’re after the Muses.”  
  
“From Greek Mythology?”  
  
“Well, the Greeks were the first ones to write about them, at least,” Jack said. “But I don’t think any of them are Greek. I could be wrong, though.”  
  
“So what’s their deal, then? Are they like Guardians or something else?”  
  
“Yes and no? I’m still learning about them myself. They follow the sun, and the Guardians follow the moon. We’ve got this alliance that I guess goes  _way_  back, so now that the Shadow People are after them  _we_  have to get involved.”  
  
“You don’t sound too pleased about that.”  
  
“Most of them don’t like me,” Jack said hesitantly. “I mean, they all seem to  _love_  Tooth, and Calliope is apparently dating Sandy, which is still confusing to me.”  
  
“I guess them liking Tooth makes sense,” Rowan said, sitting up and brushing more snow from her person.  
  
“How do you figure?”  
  
“You said she was the Guardian of Memories, right?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Well, I’m pretty sure there’s a version of the myth where the Muses were daughters of Zeus and… I can’t remember her name, but she was the personification of memory,” Rowan said, looking about at the monument as she spoke. “So, that could explain some kind of kinship they find with her.”  
  
“I guess. Though, she’s definitely  _not_  their mother, some of them are older than she is,” Jack said. “Not to mention, I don’t think any of the Muses are actually related.”  
  
“So why don’t they like  _you?”_  Rowan asked.  
  
“Most of them have no good reason,” Jack said, pulling himself up to a seated position.  
  
 _“Most_  of them?” Rowan laughed.  
  
“Okay, so I have bad history with Melpomene,” Jack said. “But the rest of them just don’t like me for the hell of it, I think.”  
  
“What went down with Melpomene?” Rowan asked. “Maybe they’re holding a grudge for her.”  
  
“Oh man, don’t make me tell the story, it’s long and… well, Melpomene is involved, so it’s tragic,” Jack said, rolling his eyes at the thought.  
  
“Well now I  _really_  want to know.”  
  
Jack simply groaned in response, pulling himself back to his feet. “Let’s just say that Melpomene and I have history and it’s not good.”  
  
“You  _do_  know I’m going to ask you about it again at some point,” Rowan said, standing back up as well.   
  
“I’m sure,” Jack said.  
  
“So what do you guys have to do about the Shadow People?”  
  
“We’re not really sure right now, we don’t know much about them, just that they don’t like light. Pitch would know more but like we’re really gonna ask him for help.”  
  
“You never did tell me about this grand battle against the Boogie Man,” Rowan pointed out, remembering when her little cousin had mentioned it. Something caught her eye from behind Jack and she leaned over to get a better look.  
  
“Shit, are those headlights?” she asked. Jack turned around to see what she was looking at and saw the moving lights as well.  
  
“Looks like it, guess that’s our cue to leave?”  
  
“Probably,” Rowan said, turning back to Jack. “How about you tell me the story about  _Pitch_  on the way back to Pennsylvania?”  
  
 _“That_  I can do,” Jack said, turning around so that his back was facing her once more. “Try not to hang on so  _tightly_  this time? I swear you left marks.”  
  
“No promises,” Rowan said, gripping Jack’s shoulders again. “Now get me out of here before I’m arrested."

* * *

  
  
Tooth sped through the air, sending her mini fairies in all directions as she took note of teeth in the area. As much as she wanted to stop and collect some of them herself, she had other matters to take care of. She had already spoken to both Bunny and Sandy, filling them in on the happenings of the earlier meeting.  
  
Now all she had to do was find Jack.  
  
She had checked his small home in Burgess, first, seeming a logical place to begin. However, the cabin had been empty and after searching the rest of the small town, Tooth had to come to the conclusion that this was not where Jack was this fine night. She then started to search the remainder of the state.  
  
Tooth had begun to wonder if perhaps she should try another country entirely when she had a strong feeling that one of her favorite sets of teeth was actually nearby. Flying off toward a small college town, Tooth found herself flying outside a third story window of a small apartment complex. Peeking inside, she found Jack, as she was hoping.  
  
He was closely examining a drawing on the wall while speaking to a girl seated on the couch. The girl was in the process of removing her iced over snow boots, her scarf and gloves draped lazily over the arm of the couch.  
  
Her mini fairies began to squeak in disapproving tones, one ready to fly forward through the glass and toward the girl. Tooth quickly stopped the small fairy and shook her head, though her eyes were still fixed on Jack.  
  
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, more to herself than anyone, slightly disappointed. As quickly as she had allowed her poise to falter, she shook herself out of it. There were greater things to worry about.  
  
Tooth knocked on the window, hoping to draw their attention. Jack turned and the girl looked up before approaching the window to see who was there. The girl turned to Jack and spoke to him briefly. He responded, smiling at Tooth and offering her a wave in greeting, which Tooth returned before the girl unlocked the window and slid it open.  
  
“The Tooth Fairy, I presume?” the girl said.  
  
“You can call me Tooth,” Tooth replied. “You must be Jack’s mortal friend. Rowan, was it?”  
  
“Yes, that’s me,” Rowan replied. She glanced back at Jack, examining him critically. “I mean, I  _guess_  we’re friends.  _Sort of.”_  
  
“Does this mean you don’t want to get friendship bracelets?” Jack asked, pretending to be very disappointed.  
  
“May I come in?” Tooth asked.  
  
“Yes, of course. See, Jack? Some people ask  _permission_  before entering someone’s home.”  
  
“Hey, our agreement was that whenever I come over now I have to knock, and I’ve  _been_  doing just that,” Jack said with a shrug as Tooth and her mini fairies flew inside, the fairies immediately buzzing around Rowan. They examined her critically, shuffling through the small braids and pins in her hair and flying close to her face.  
  
Rowan took a step back, trying to wave them away. “Hey, hey! What are you doing?” she said, swatting at one of the fairies that took it upon herself to check Rowan’s teeth. The fairy immediately dodged Rowan’s hand, squeaking in protest.  
  
“Ladies! Fall back!” Tooth said, hands on her hips as she gazed disapprovingly at the fairies that reluctantly returned to their leader’s side. Tooth turned to Rowan and said, “I’m so sorry, they don’t usually behave that way.”  
  
“Oh, good, I knew I was special,” Rowan sighed. She tried to smooth out her hair, which had become quite disheveled when the fairies began to examine it. “Just as long as they don’t do it again, it’s… fine.”  
  
“What’s wrong, girls, jealous?” Jack laughed, the fairies flying near him and squeaking cheerfully at his acknowledgement.   
  
“Left maxillary first molar, Reno,” Tooth said, pointing to one of the fairies. “Right lateral incisor, Mexico City,” she pointed to the next one in line. “And you, there’s a left canine in Toronto. Move out!”  
  
The fairies seemed disappointed, waving to Jack before rushing out of Rowan’s apartment, straight through the glass of her window.  
  
“Did they just go  _through_  my window? Like, through the  _glass?”_  Rowan said, staring wide eyed at the area that the fairies had exited from.  
  
“It’s how they’re able to collect the teeth,” Tooth explained. “I really am sorry, I don’t know what came over them.”  
  
“It’s fine, really, just… took me by surprise,” Rowan said, turning back to finally get a better look at Tooth. She stayed hovering a few inches above the ground, her wings fluttering rapidly.  
  
“It won’t happen again,” Tooth assured her.  
  
“Good,” Rowan said, still watching her closely. Tooth shifted under Rowan’s gaze, examining herself as though to see if her feathers had begun to fall out or something. Finally, Rowan said, “You’ve got such pretty feathers. Look at the colors!”  
  
“Oh! Thank you,” Tooth said, offering the girl a smile.  
  
“You should see the sketch she did of you,” Jack said to Tooth.  
  
“You drew me?” Tooth said, seeming delighted at the idea.  
  
“Oh, well, it’s just a rough sketch, I only had Jack’s description to go off of,” Rowan said, walking to her bedside table and picking up her notebook. After flipping through a few pages, she handed Tooth the book so that she could see the sketch, surrounded by notes on the Tooth Fairy. “I think we came pretty close.”  
  
Tooth scanned over the sketch, finding that Rowan had indeed rendered her well. The sketch version of Tooth was taller, with longer legs and the wings were a bit off, but most other aspects seemed quite accurate.  
  
“This is really nice!” Tooth said. “I wish I could take it with me.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll draw a better one to give to you,” Rowan said, taking the notebook as Tooth handed it back to her.  
  
“That would be wonderful,” said the fairy.  
  
“Will I be receiving any of the drawings you’ve done of me that I’ve  _heard_  about, but haven’t seen?” Jack asked.  
  
“Maybe,” Rowan said with a shrug. “Christmas  _is_  coming up.”  
  
“Did you draw all of these?” Tooth asked, having wandered over to the wall to examine the drawing pinned there.  
  
“Most of them,” Rowan said. “The ones that say ‘R. Sawyer’ in the corner.”  
  
“You’re very talented,” Tooth said. She pointed to one of the sketches. “I really like this one, of the mermaid.”  
  
“Thank you,” Rowan said. “That was a preliminary sketch for a project.”  
  
“What brings you by, Tooth?” Jack asked at last. Tooth turned away from the sketches. “Here to join the festivities?”  
  
“Festivities?” Tooth repeated.  
  
“It’s Rowan’s birthday,” Jack said.  
  
“Oh! Happy Birthday!” Tooth said. She produced a quarter from seemingly nowhere and handed it to Rowan. “Here. I know it isn’t much, but, short notice and all that!”  
  
“No, this is great, I need these for laundry,” Rowan said, eyes darting from Tooth and back to the coin, wondering where exactly it had come from. She very obviously had no pockets. “Thank you! Although, as of about an hour ago it’s December second so, not my birthday anymore, technically.”  
  
“Happy One-Hour Belated Birthday, then,” Tooth said with a smile.  
  
“Can I ask you something?” Rowan said.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Where do you get all the money?” Rowan asked, holding the coin up before her.  
  
“I’ve actually kinda wondered that too,” Jack said, settling himself down on one of the chairs surrounding Rowan’s dining table.  
  
“Stock market,” Tooth said simply, as though it were obvious. “I got Apple stocks really cheap when they first started. I just liked the logo, who knew it would turn out so well!”  
  
“Apple  _computers?”_  Rowan said, eyes wide. “I don’t even want to  _think_  about how much of my tuition goes toward the Mac labs at my school.”  
  
“How much was the fancy laptop you’ve got?” Jack asked, gesturing to the computer on the table with the Apple logo on the back, partially concealed by stickers.  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rowan groaned at the thought. “They’re all the illustration department uses.”  
  
“Not to change the subject,” Tooth said. “But there  _is_  a reason I came here. I was looking for you, Jack. I just got back from another meeting at the pole.”  
  
“Guess I wasn’t invited?” Jack asked.  
  
“It was just Urania, Calliope, North and I,” Tooth said. “But I do need to fill you in on the new information we have. I was also going to tell you more about the Muses in general.”  
  
“Sounds like a ton of fun,” Jack mumbled.  
  
“I know your relationship with the Muses isn’t the best, but they  _are_  our allies, and it’s important you know more about them,” Tooth said.  
  
“I know, I know,” Jack sighed.  
  
“You seem thrilled,” Rowan observed with a laugh. “I mean, come on, you don’t even have to hang out with them, you just have to hear about them for a little while.”  
  
“Exactly!” Tooth said. “Though I need to go back out and help direct the fairies, I was hoping we could maybe fly together while we talked?”  
  
“You collecting teeth tonight?” Jack asked.  
  
“Maybe! That would be nice,” Tooth said, her face lighting up at the thought of gathering the teeth herself again. She should be able to, now that she had tracked the boy down.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll fly with you, it’ll be like a few months ago when we all went collecting with you,” Jack said, pulling himself to his feet.  
  
“Great!” Tooth said. She turned back to Rowan and smiled nervously. “Sorry for stealing him away, I know you two were in the middle of a visit.”  
  
Rowan scoffed. “Take him! Don’t worry about it, I wanna get ready for bed anyway.”  
  
“Don’t be so choked up that I’m leaving,” Jack smirked.  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes and said dryly, “Once again, my life is  _so_  empty without you, Jack, I will be counting down the moments, waiting by my window with bated breath for your return.”  
  
“She’s lost without me,” Jack muttered to Tooth, gesturing to Rowan. Tooth simply laughed as Rowan rolled her eyes yet again.  
  
 _“Goodbye Jack,”_  Rowan said, gesturing to her window.  
  
“Come on, we’ve got lots to talk about,” Tooth said.  
  
“All right, all right,” Jack said, reaching over and ruffling Rowan’s hair further than the tooth fairies had earlier. She swatted his hand away but smiled.  
  
“Goodbye, Rowan,” Tooth said. “It was nice meeting you.”  
  
“You too,” Rowan said.  
  
“Until next time,” Jack said, offering the girl a smile as he hovered beside Tooth. The next instant, he followed Tooth out the window, sending a gust of wind to close it behind him, as he usually did. Rowan stood at the window, watching them until they disappeared from sight.

 


	13. Filling in the Blanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is the first one where anything really sort of resembling action happens and I hope it works out. As far as Melpomene and Yelena go? Well, you will all find out more in due time, promise!

_"The Muses are terrible gossips."_

_"Great. How much do you know? Who else knows?"_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Filling In The Blanks**

* * *

  
  
“Why don’t we start with what you  _do_  know about the Muses?” Tooth whispered as she and Jack entered a young girl’s room to retrieve her tooth, quarter in hand.  
  
“I know that there are nine of them,” Jack said in hushed tones as Tooth slid the molar from beneath the pillow, tucked away in a small plastic box. She opened the small box to take the tooth, replacing it with the quarter before closing the box and setting it back beneath the girl’s pillow.  
  
They returned to the window, creeping through as Jack continued. “I know that they all have the power to inspire people at will, but they all have things that they are the best at inspiring.”  
  
“Sort of  _their_  center,” Tooth said with a nod as they flew off to find another child waiting for a visit from her. “Do you know which center goes with which Muse?”  
  
“Calliope is the Muse of epic poetry,” Jack said.  
  
“She’s also taken to novels in recent years,” Tooth added.  
  
“Urania is astronomy. So, she hangs around more scientific people than creative people,” Jack continued.  
  
“And serves as a messenger between the Guardians and the Muses,” Tooth said.   
  
“Right. Thalia is comedy, Melpomene is tragedy, Erato is love poetry… this is where it starts getting foggy. Clio is history?” Jack questioned as they landed at another window sill and began to enter another room.  
  
“All correct,” Tooth said, sliding a quarter beneath the slumbering boy’s pillow after retrieving his maxillary canine. “Polyhymnia?”  
  
Jack stared at her blankly.  
  
“Come on, Jack, Poly _hymn_ ia?” Tooth whispered.  
  
“Oh! Hymns, right,” Jack said.  
  
“Euterpe is song and Terpsichore is dance,” Tooth said, leading the way out of the window, flying high into the air to head for the next town. Jack quickly caught up with her.  
  
“Do you know how someone becomes a Muse?” Tooth asked running her hand across some clouds as they passed.  
  
“The sun chooses them?” Jack asked.  
  
“Sort of, all Muses start off as ordinary, mortal women,” Tooth explained.  
  
“Isn’t that how most of us start out? I mean, those of us that follow Manny.”  
  
“Well, not always. Many of us  _started out_  as immortal creatures, and the Man in the Moon keeps an eye on all of us, some of us become Guardians,” Tooth said. “You died to make a transition from mortal to immortal. That’s not common.”  
  
“Really?” Jack asked.  
  
“Bunny, North and I… none of us have experienced death firsthand. Sandy hadn’t either until the incident with Pitch a few months ago,” Tooth said. “And outside of the Guardians, I mean, obviously the Horseman was a mortal that died before he was chosen to live on as the spirit of Horror, but the leprechaun, Cupid, the groundhog…”  
  
“So the Muses don’t start off immortal,” Jack said.  
  
“No. That’s something you have in common, actually, all the Muses have died to become what they are,” Tooth said, sliding inside another, rather narrow, window, with Jack squeezing in behind her. “But Manny chose to preserve the best in you, to grant you immortality because you died guarding a child’s life. The sun doesn’t really work that way.”  
  
“So, how does a random mortal woman become a Muse, then?” Jack whispered, jumping slightly as he noticed a cat perched on the bookshelf he’d been hovering by. The cat watched him, disapproval clear on its face.  
  
“It’s not random, have you ever heard of the Mortal Muse?” Tooth asked, returning from the child’s bed with the incisor held gently in her hand. The cat hissed at the two of them.  
  
“I haven’t,” Jack mumbled back, eyes still on the cat. He and Tooth each swerved to opposite sides as the feline leaped forward. It landed on the ground, swiping at the two with its claws, hissing still.  
  
“Calm down, kitty, we’re on our way out,” Tooth whispered to the cat, who was not calmed by this statement in the least. The pair quickly squeezed through the window again, closing the glass quickly to prevent the cat from pursuing them. It sat at the window, glaring at the two of them as they flew off.  
  
“So the Mortal Muse,” Jack said.  
  
“Right, well, not just anyone can become a Muse, you have to be a Mortal Muse,” Tooth said. “A Mortal Muse is a mortal woman who possessed the powers of a Muse to inspire. However, the Mortal Muse cannot control her powers and most times doesn’t even know she has them.”  
  
“So how does she inspire people, then?”  
  
“Sometimes by talking to them, or touching them,” Tooth explained. “She can bump into someone on the street and they could get their next great idea simply from that. The more intimate the action, the greater the inspiration. A kiss would inspire more than a handshake, but because the powers of a Mortal Muse are so unstable, sometimes these actions won’t inspire anything at all. It’s very random.”  
  
“So once she dies she gets full control over her powers and becomes a full fledged Muse?” Jack asked.  
  
“Not always. I mean, it’s only happened nine times,” Tooth pointed out. “No, the death part is very specific. They have to die in a way that’s  _inspiring_. Most of the time, that means it’s an early, unexpected, tragic death.”  
  
“So, old age won’t do it,” Jack said.  
  
“Sickness won’t, in most cases, either,” Tooth nodded.  
  
“So, something like, being murdered would work?” Jack asked.  
  
“Depends on the murder, the sun evaluates the deaths and he’s usually very picky. It has to be something that really warrants immortality. A great tragedy, a good mystery, something heart-wrenching.”  
  
“A story people will keep telling,” Jack said.  
  
“Exactly,” Tooth said. “So, if the Mortal Muse dies in an inspiring enough way, a year after the death, in a great burst of light, she will be reborn as a Muse.”  
  
“A  _year?”_  
  
“One full revolution around the sun,” said Tooth. “During that year there is no Mortal Muse. After that, a new one is soon born regardless of the fate of the previous one.”  
  
“Huh, well that’s all very dramatic,” Jack said.  
  
“It kind of is, isn’t it? But it’s important you know about the Mortal Muse, because that was what the meeting was about earlier,” Tooth said. “The Shadow People are looking for her, because her powers will be the easiest to take.”  
  
“So who is it?” Jack asked.  
  
“We don’t know, Calliope is searching for her as we speak,” Tooth explained. “Once we find her, she’ll have to be placed under protection while we figure out what to do about the Shadow People.”  
  
“I hate to say it, and I mean I  _really_  hate to say it, but Melpomene might have had a point about Pitch knowing more about the darkness than the rest of us.”  
  
“I agree,” Tooth said hesitantly. “But North is right, he can’t be trusted. I feel like many things will have to go wrong before we consult him.”  
  
“I’m not arguing with that, if I never see him again it’ll be too soon.”  
  
Tooth settled down on the roof of a nearby house, Jack taking a seat beside her. “Now, let’s see, what else should I go over with you? Oh! Can the Muses be seen by mortals?”  
  
“No,” Jack said, shaking his head.  
  
“Incorrect,” Tooth said, smiling softly at him. “The Muses, unlike those of us that follow the moon, do not rely on belief in order to be seen by mortals. They  _choose_  whether or not to reveal themselves. However, all other immortal beings, as well as the Mortal Muse, can always see the Muses.”  
  
“Well, I got some bad information,” Jack mumbled.  
  
“From Melpomene?” Tooth asked. Jack winced at the name. “I… know you two have history.”  
  
“How?” Jack asked.  
  
“The Muses are terrible gossips,” Tooth said gently, offering him a small smile.  
  
“Great. How much do you know? Who  _else_  knows?” Jack said, avoiding eye contact with the fairy, choosing instead to stare at the street light across the way.  
  
“The other Guardians don’t know, if that’s what you mean. I doubt Calliope told Sandy, I don’t think she likes talking about you more than she has to. And as far as what I know? Well-”  
  
“What’s that?” Jack said suddenly, pointing to the street light he’d been watching. Tooth turned to see what he was talking about, finding that the streetlight had begun violently flickering, a strange, dark figure lurking near the base, careful to avoid the light. Finally, the light went out and the figure moved on to the next one. Emerging from the shadows nearby came other dark figures, following the first one.  
  
They moved with a certain grace, blurred silhouettes of what might be something human, like walking smoke. It was too dark to determine whether they were parts of the shadows themselves, or separate entities entirely.  
  
“Shadow People,” Tooth whispered. Before she could utter another word, Jack immediately flew forward, landing on the fence near the figures.  
  
“Jack!” Tooth hissed before quickly flying after him, landing beside him on the fence. The Shadow People seemed to pay them little mind as they continued down the street.  
  
“Well, let’s see what these guys can do,” Jack said, lifting his staff and taking aim. Tooth set her hand on his and immediately shook her head.  
  
“If all they’re doing is traveling, maybe we should just observe them,” she whispered. “Instead of  _starting_  a fight.”  
  
Before Jack could respond, he swore he saw someone walk by in the corner of his eye. He turned away from Tooth to see who it was, and found no one there. Tooth suddenly turned as well, as though she had seen something too.  
  
Jack quickly glanced back to where the Shadow People had previously been and found that they were no longer there. Another flash in the corner of his eyes. He turned around again.  
  
“Tooth?” Jack said.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“What if  _they_  start a fight?”  
  
“Take no prisoners,” she said simply, exchanging nervous glances with Jack.  
  
The flashes of  _something_  darting in and out of their vision became more frequent and the two huddled close together, watching carefully and waiting for a cue to do something.  
  
Jack was suddenly knocked from his perch on the fence, landing clumsily to the pavement. He groaned at impact, readjusting his grip on his staff before turning back to face where he had just been standing. Tooth had flown over to his side and was now also watching as the tall, dark figure approached them, several others following close behind.  
  
They had no faces, simply darker shadows where features should be. Their bodies, if they could be called bodies at all, as they didn’t seem very solid, behaved almost like liquid. They twisted and contracted to maneuver around the fence and between buildings.  
  
The front figure lunged forward at Jack, shadows twisting around his face, consuming his vision in darkness. Tooth flew to her friend, attempting to tear the Shadow Person away, finding that her hands simply slid right off the creature.  
  
“I can’t get a grip on it!” she groaned, Jack trying and failing to do the same, grasping at the darkness around him. His muffled groans could be heard.  
  
More Shadow People approached, and Tooth flew forward, hoping to slice through them with her wings, the same strategy she had used with the nightmares. She turned back after flying through their approaching forms and found only the smallest figures had begun fading away to nothing, the others still pursuing Jack.  
  
Rushing back to the winter spirit, Tooth hooked her arms around his waist and pulled him back. She couldn’t get a grip on the Shadow People but she knew she could keep hold of Jack. Flying back, she managed to pull him away from the black mass already in contact with him.  
  
Jack shook his head, gripping the sides of it as soon as he was pulled back.  
  
“Are you okay?” Tooth asked, setting the two of them back down on the roof they had been sitting on earlier.  
  
“I feel like I’m gonna be sick,” Jack said, closing his eyes and swallowing before pulling himself, shaking, back to his feet in time for the Shadow People to begin scaling the side of the house to reach the roof. They seemed to melt into the walls of the house, becoming little more than actual shadows as they moved.  
  
Tooth took Jack’s arm as she flew higher above the roof. Unsteady, he flew with her, eyes fixed on the figures, now standing upright on the roof.  
  
“I don’t think they can fly,” Tooth said.  
  
 _“I_  barely can right now,” Jack said. Tooth tightened her grip on his arm.  
  
“What did it do to you?” she asked, watching as the Shadow People attempted to stretch to reach the two of them. She flew higher, taking Jack with her.  
  
“All I could see was darkness, it… it was like when Manny first brought me back, it was just dark and cold and,” he hesitated. “I was scared. There was just this terrible feeling of dread.”  
  
He pulled his arm away from Tooth, finding that he could fly a bit steadier now.   
  
“It looks like you’re recovering pretty quickly, though,” Tooth observed. “You look less sick.”  
  
“Feel less sick,” he mumbled before diving back down toward the roof where the Shadow People were waiting for him.  
  
“Jack what are you doing!?” Tooth called, flying after him. Taking aim with his staff, Jack let out a cry as he sent a blast of cold and ice at the figures. Some of the smaller ones disappeared under the blast, but the others simply darted away from the light and absorbed the shards of ice. They hid, melting into the side of the house until the light fully disappeared, before slinking back to the roof.  
  
“I don’t think we can fight them like the Nightmares, Jack, I tried already,” Tooth said, flying beside him as he circled the roof.  
  
“Some of them went down,” Jack replied.  
  
“Yeah, the small ones!” Tooth said.  
  
“I want to try something,” Jack said, diving back in the center of the group of shadow people, illuminating his staff as he went. He landed heavily in the center of the group, bringing down his staff as though hoping to slice through their forms. The eerie blue light shone brightly, causing Jack to wince and close his eyes.  
  
When the light died down, he opened his eyes and found Tooth lowering her arms, which she had put in front of her eyes to keep from looking directly into the light.  
  
The Shadow People were gone.  
  
“It worked!” Tooth cheered, rushing forward and embracing Jack. “They’re gone! How’d you do that?”  
  
“It was the same attack, but without the ice,” Jack said, twirling his staff about in his hand proudly.  
  
“What kind of light is that?” she asked.  
  
“I don’t know, magic winter staff light?” Jack suggested with a shrug.  
  
“Well, whatever it is, it got rid of them. They were shying away from the street light earlier but it looks like electricity isn’t strong enough on its own to keep them at bay,” Tooth said, examining the area for clues or Shadow People that might have decided to hide.  
  
“We might have to borrow some of the moonbeams too, if light’s all that working in our favor right now,” Jack said.  
  
“Like Urania said, though, they’re only as strong as the phase of the moon at the time,” Tooth said. “Let’s head back to the palace, it’s daylight there and I have to direct more of my fairies.”  
  
“Shouldn’t we head to the pole and let North know what we found out?” Jack asked, flying with Tooth as she began heading toward her palace, careful to stay high above the ground.  
  
“I don’t know that it’s worth calling a meeting, and North is finally taking some time to  _sleep_  so I don’t want to disturb that,” she said. “But I will send my fairies to deliver a message, the Yetis should be able to understand them and relay it to North.”  
  
“And the others?” Jack asked.  
  
“We’ll figure that out once we get there,” she replied.  
  


* * *

  
  
“So you can’t get a hold on them at all?” Bunny asked, having arrived at Tooth Palace minutes earlier to find out what Tooth and Jack had to say.  
  
The palace was as grand as ever, having undergone many repairs as soon as children began to believe in Tooth again. The fairies fluttered to and fro, busy as ever. They stopped occasionally to greet Jack, who had taken a seat on the platform where this small meeting was being held. He’d begun feeling dizzy again once he arrived back to the palace, and Tooth had suggested that his quick recovery earlier had been due to adrenaline that was now wearing down.  
  
“It’s like trying to grab onto smoke or water,” Tooth said, shaking her head.  
  
“They had a pretty good grip on  _me_  though,” Jack added. “Hate to think what would have happened if Tooth hadn’t pulled me away.”  
  
“Definitely not something to face on your own, then,” Bunny said.  
  
“Not if you don’t have some strong light source with you,” Tooth said. “I don’t think they’re quite strong enough to take our powers away entirely but definitely strong enough to make it nearly impossible to fight back for a while. They’re either attacking with no regard to the target or they  _know_  about our alliance with the Muses.”  
  
“Do North and Sandy know about what happened?”  
  
“I sent fairies to tell both of them and as many of the Muses as they could find,” Tooth said.  
  
“Sandy might be okay because his sand glows,” Jack said. “But I have no idea if your boomerangs or North’s swords will work against them.”  
  
“And to find out at this point you’d have to actually try it,” Tooth said. “Which would be dangerous right now.”  
  
“Pitch would know,” Bunny grumbled, obviously as unhappy as the others that Melpomene was right about something. “But asking him is a bigger risk, I’d wager.”  
  
A few of the small fairies approached Tooth, squeaking rapidly, prompting her to nod along before directing them after some teeth. She turned back to the other Guardians.  
  
“Sandy and North have been informed. They also found all of the Muses except Urania, since she’s with the stars right now,” she said.  
  
“Did they happen to find out how Calliope’s search is going?” Jack asked.  
  
“She’s still looking, no luck yet,” Tooth said.  
  
“I can’t believe we’re getting mixed up with a Mortal Muse again,” Bunny said, shaking his head slightly.  
  
“Again?” Jack asked. Tooth shot Bunny a look and Bunny fidgeted slightly.  
  
“We’ve, well, dealt with a few before,” the overgrown rabbit said vaguely.  
  
Jack glanced between the two older Guardians, who avoided eye contact with him, and said, “Okay, but that’s not what you meant.”  
  
“It’s not really our place, Jack, it’s something for you to talk to North about if anything,” Tooth said.  
  
“That’s what I told him as soon as he started breaking into that sheila’s apartment,” Bunny sighed.  
  
“You didn’t say anything about talking to North about Mortal  _Muses_ , just mortals in general,” Jack pointed out.  
  
“It’s nice to know that you  _are_  listening to me, just choosing to ignore everything I suggest,” Bunny said, rolling his eyes. “Mortal Muses  _are_  mortal unless they die the right way. Getting close to them is just as bad.”  
  
“Speaking of mortals, do you spend a lot of time visiting Rowan Sawyer?” Tooth said suddenly, hoping to change the subject.  
  
“He was there  _again?”_  Bunny said.  
  
“Are we  _really_  going over this again? It’s getting old, I’m not going to stop spending time with mortals, my job isn’t  _like_  the rest of yours, I don’t intend on hiding out,” Jack said defensively, finally bringing himself back up to his feet.  
  
“We’re just trying-!” Bunny started.  
  
“Bunny, why don’t you let me try talking to him?” Tooth asked.  
  
“Fine, maybe  _you’ll_  get through to him,” Bunny said, tapping his foot on the platform until one of his tunnels appeared. “Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”  
  
In the next instant, Bunny disappeared through his tunnel, leaving only a tulip in his wake. Tooth hovered over to Jack and offered him a small smile.  
  
“Mortals are just going to die and getting attached will only end badly for me, I’ve heard it already, Tooth,” Jack said, annoyance clear in his voice.  
  
“I’m not going to tell you to stop spending time with Rowan,” she said gently. “I’m just curious… how much time  _do_  you spend there?”  
  
“I don’t know, I’ve visited a handful of times,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”  
  
“She mustn’t become a distraction, it  _is_  winter and you have other things to do,” Tooth pointed out, waving off some of the mini fairies that had stopped nearby to eavesdrop.  
  
“I’m still doing what I’ve always done, I’ve just got some friends now,” Jack said.  
  
“Is that all she is, a friend?” Tooth asked hesitantly.  
  
“Of course,” Jack said, finding that Tooth looked quite relieved the moment the words passed his lips. “I mean, we’ve known each other maybe a week?”  
  
“That’s good, because I hate to say it, Jack, but Bunny’s right. I know you love these mortals and all, but getting too attached will only lead to heartache for you, and it’ll only be worse if you start something with this girl.”  
  
“So, don’t propose marriage to her, got it,” Jack said with a laugh. “If we’re being totally honest here, dating  _anyone,_  immortal or not, can end really badly.”  
  
“That’s true. I’m, um, not sure she’s your type anyway,” Tooth said with a smile.  
  
“Oh no, is there something wrong with her teeth?” Jack asked, feigning seriousness.  
  
“Actually braces did wonders for her,” Tooth laughed. “She seems a bit  _serious_ , is all.”  
  
“She’s a challenge, but I can make her have fun,” he said. Tooth’s smile faltered only for an instant at this statement.  
  
“Well, you  _are_  the Guardian of Fun,” she said.   
  
“She could use some fun,” he said. “And I like her stories. Don’t worry about it, it’s all harmless.”  
  
“I trust you, Jack,” Tooth said, lightly placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just know that Bunny and North  _are_  trying to look out for you. I know it feels like they’re trying boss you around but it all really  _is_  because we care and don’t want you hurt.”  
  
“I know, and I mean, I appreciate that you all care so much, but it’s an adjustment. I’ve gone centuries only relying on myself, and I think I know what I can and can’t handle,” he said.  
  
“You’re family now, Jack, we’re all going to keep caring and worrying,” she said. “Whether you want us to or not.”


	14. Progress

_"I always think it must be lonely being an only child."_

_"I had a lot of imaginary friends. I guess not much has changed."_

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Progress**

* * *

  
  
“Oh, Mr. Black,” Melpomene purred as she appeared in the dark, crooked lair of the Nightmare King. It was devastatingly silent, her footsteps providing the only sound as she crept through the limited lighting, mask held loosely in her slender hand.  
  
“I thought you were condemned to the daylight,” came a bored voice from somewhere within the shadows. Melpomene glanced around the lair briefly before Pitch emerged from the shadows before her, revealing himself at last. He moved with the same grace as always, appearing to float rather than walk, but his pace had slowed considerably. His face was gaunt and his eyes were dim.  
  
It was almost painful just to see, the weakness displayed in the man. If he could be called a man at all, that is.  
  
“You know I can never stay away from the dark for long,” she said, smiling up at him, being but a few inches shorter. Tucking away her mask, she reached forward and slid her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “I’ve missed you, Pitch.”  
  
He lightly rested his own hands on her hips, resting his weary head against hers, neglecting to respond vocally to her statement.  
  
“You seem to have gotten worse since I last saw you,” she fussed, lightly brushing her lips against his jaw. “It hasn’t been that long, what’s happened?”  
  
“Ha!” he said, prying himself away from her grasp and approaching his copy of North’s globe, eyes fixed on the dimming lights. “It’s ridiculous! The lights imply faltering belief and yet I remain weak.”  
  
“The Shadow People? Shouldn’t them inducing fear be  _helping_  you?” Melpomene asked, moving to stand beside him.  
  
“One would think,” Pitch said. “It would appear that the Shadow People are hurting  _me_  as much as they intend to hurt the Muses and the Guardians, which is likely just an added bonus for those despicable creatures.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Melpomene said, brow furrowed.  
  
“They frighten the children to the point where they will not go to bed, and if they don’t sleep, they can’t have nightmares,” Pitch said. “But that’s the least of my worries. As they destroy a person’s spirit, they’re left an empty shell. They can no longer feel joy or the urge to create, which is, of course, what worries you Muses and your little alliance.”  
  
Melpomene chose not to comment on Pitch’s obvious distaste toward her associating with his sworn enemies and instead waited for him to continue in his explanation.  
  
“However, they can no longer feel fear or an urge to destroy, either. They’re left feeling empty and desperate, simply sad. That’s of no use to me, there’s no passion there like there is in fear,” Pitch said.  
  
“You are too weak to fight them, but the Guardians are not,” Melpomene said, stepping in front of him and blocking his immediate view of the globe. “Negotiate with them,  _you_  know how to fight them!”  
  
“I would sooner renounce my powers all together,” Pitch sneered, turning away from the woman.  
  
“You’re heading straight there,” Melpomene hissed, following him as he moved away from her. “The Guardians have no idea how to approach these things, they need your help but won’t admit it. And if the Shadow People aren’t taken care of, you’ll only grow weaker. You need  _their_  help, too.”  
  
“How exactly do you picture this working out?” Pitch snapped. “Do you suppose I’ll just waltz right into the North Pole and cut a deal with them?”  
  
“Why not?” she asked. “You have an advantage,  _you know more about the darkness_. They need that information, and as the attacks grow in numbers, they’re going to get more desperate.”  
  
“It’s  _adorable_ , the way you discuss this as though it’s all to benefit me and the Guardians, all while leaving out the fact that the Shadow People are out to get  _you,”_  Pitch said, crossing his arms and staring at her, unamused.  
  
“They’re after the Mortal Muse, not me,” Melpomene said. “They’ll only be a threat to me and the others if they get powerful enough to actually take a full-fledged Muse’s powers away.”  
  
“Ah, yes, the Mortal Muse, who is it this time?” Pitch said, rolling his eyes at the thought.  
  
“We’re not sure, Calliope is looking for her now,” Melpomene said. She smiled slightly, sliding her arm around Pitch once more. “It’s a shame you don’t want in on this alliance, even if it was only temporarily. Imagine having access to a powerful mortal like that! Giving her a nightmare, with how vivid the Mortal Muse’s imagination is, would increase your strength tenfold.”  
  
Pitch remained silent, brow furrowed as he considered what Melpomene said.  
  
“Just think about it for me, Pitch?” she whispered, running her fingers down the side of his neck and glancing up at him through her lashes coquettishly. “It would benefit all of us to get rid of the Shadow People.”  
  
“We’ll see,” was all he said.

* * *

  
  
“Yeah, today we critiqued the whole time. If you think people can’t talk about still life paintings for six hours, you’d be mistaken,” Rowan said, holding her phone to her ear with her right hand while she unraveled the braids in her hair with her left hand. The only light on in her apartment was the lamp on her bedside table.  
  
“Mine went well, I know I passed, I just don’t know if I managed to pull off an A or not,” she continued, setting the clear elastic bands that had held her braids together beside the base of the lamp. “I think I did but I don’t want to jinx it.”  
  
There was a tap on her window and Rowan was unsurprised to find a certain white-haired boy waiting on the other side to be let in. She smiled in greeting before unlocking the window and pulling it open. As he climbed inside, she pointed to her cell phone before holding up her hand like a puppet and opening and closing the puppet’s “mouth” several times to indicate that whoever she was talking to was talking quite a bit.  
  
Jack snickered before nodding understandingly and closing the window behind him.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t have any studio classes tomorrow so I should get out earlier, it’s just art history…. Right… uh-huh,” Rowan said, glancing at Jack and mouthing, ‘She just keeps talking!’  
  
“Take your time, I have nowhere to be,” Jack laughed, leaning against her counter.  
  
“All right, well, it’s getting late, I’ll talk to you later? … Okay… I will. … All right… Goodnight, Mom, love you too.” Rowan pulled the phone from her ear and hung it up before walking over to her bedside table and plugging it into the charger.  
  
“Aw, keeping your mommy updated, that’s very nice,” Jack teased.  
  
“She’s very committed to mothering me from another state,” Rowan said, rolling her eyes.   
  
“Which other state?” Jack asked.  
  
“Massachusetts,” Rowan said. “I mean, I was born in Burgess and we lived there until I was like four but I went to school and grew up in Massachusetts.”  
  
“So why’d you come to school here? I mean, wouldn’t New York be a more obvious choice?” Jack asked. New York and California were where the biggest art communities in the country were, after all.  
  
“Yeah, and I mean, I looked into some schools there. It would be great to go to school in New York City and be in the middle of everything but it’s also  _so_  expensive,” Rowan said, settling herself down on her bed as she spoke. “Besides, I have family here in Pennsylvania, even if they are a few hours away. And I liked the campus here, it was a bit less overwhelming.”  
  
Jack nodded, her reasons proving to be logical enough. “Going home for Christmas?”  
  
 _“Weather permitting,”_ Rowan said, casting him a critical glance.  
  
“I  _guess_  I could give you decent driving conditions,” Jack chuckled.  
  
“Good, because I miss my mom’s cooking,” Rowan said, pushing her hair back out of her eyes as she yawned. She wore an over-sized band shirt and some gray sweat pants, having been getting ready for bed before her mother called.  
  
“You mean instant noodles aren’t doing it for you?”  
  
“Not so much,” she smiled. “Didn’t see you yesterday, did your Muse lesson take that long?”  
  
“Aw, did you miss me?” Jack teased. “Nah, Shadow People causing trouble. Proved to be very distracting.”  
  
“Did you take care of them?”  
  
“More or less,” Jack said vaguely. “And don’t avoid my question,  _did you miss me?”_  
  
“I just realized last night how  _quiet_  it is when you’re not around.”  
  
“You  _did_  miss me!”  
  
“I didn’t say that.”  
  
“There’s some major denial happening here,” Jack said with a cheeky grin.  
  
Rowan responded with a roll of the eyes, something she felt herself doing quite a bit around this boy. She wondered if he could even be called a ‘boy’ still, being over three hundred years old. He felt like a peer.  
  
“Did I miss anything important yesterday? I mean, besides you missing me,” Jack asked.  
  
“I called Jamie and told him more of my story,” Rowan said with a shrug. Jack frowned, his shoulders slumping at this statement.  
  
“You told the next part of the story without me there to eavesdrop? That’s not okay!” he said, very clearly insulted that this had happened.  
  
“Oh come on, sit down, I’ll tell you the next part now,” Rowan said, patting the side of the bed she was currently not sitting on. “Well, on one condition, anyway.”  
  
“You and your conditions,” Jack sighed, sitting cross-legged across from her, his staff resting against her bedside table.  
  
“You never told me how you became Jack Frost,” Rowan said, crossing her arms before her.  
  
“Okay, but it’s your turn. I told the last story, the whole thing with Pitch,” Jack pointed out.  
  
“You did,” she acknowledged. “But how many stories had  _I_  told before that?”  
  
Jack sighed and seemed to debate mentally for a moment about whether or not to tell her about how he became Jack Frost.  
  
“You could always tell me what happened with Mel-whatever-her-name-was instead,” Rowan said in a sing-song voice.  
  
“So it was winter, I mean, obviously,” Jack said suddenly, hoping to distract from Melpomene and what may or may not have gone on between them. “My little sister got me up early because I had promised her we’d go ice skating.”  
  
“Aw, you had a little sister?” Rowan said, absentmindedly pulling her hair into a braid. “You hadn’t mentioned that before.”  
  
“Yeah, we were about eight years apart, her name was Emmeline, I called her Emmy,” Jack said with a smile. “You have any brothers or sisters?”  
  
Rowan shook her head. “Nah, my parents had issues conceiving; Mom miscarried another pregnancy before me. Jamie and Sophie are the closest things I’ve got to siblings.”  
  
“I always think it must be lonely being an only child,” Jack more mumbled than actually said.  
  
“I had a lot of imaginary friends,” Rowan said. She smirked and playfully shoved at his shoulder. “I guess not much has changed.”  
  
“Aw, see, we  _are_  friends,” he laughed.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, just tell me the story,” she said.  
  
“All right. Anyway, we got dressed and got our skates, I think hers were a Christmas gift, and headed out to the lake…”  
  
Rowan listened intently as Jack told the story. It was not a long one, nor did very much happen. But his words (as well as her curiosity since their initial meeting) held her captive all the same. As the story came to a close, he watched her expectantly, waiting for any kind of reaction.  
  
“You played hopscotch with your little sister  _every day?”_  was the first thing Rowan said.  
  
“Really?  _That’s_  what you took from this?” Jack said, making a face.  
  
Rowan laughed a little, “Well, it’s just-”  
  
“You know, this is a really personal story, I don’t really need you being like ‘look at this pansy, playing hopscotch with little kids,’” Jack said.  
  
“I don’t think you’re a pansy! Don’t put words in my mouth!” Rowan said, ceasing in her laughter but smiling all the same. “I think it’s  _adorable_  that you played hopscotch with your little sister every day. It’s not something I expected from you.”  
  
“I’ve gone from fearless Guardian to  _adorable_  in one story- Wait, you just admitted that I’m cute,” Jack said, that smug smirk returning to his face as quickly as it had disappeared.  
  
“I admitted no such thing,” Rowan said, leaning back against her pillows with a roll of the eyes.  
  
“You think I’m adorable,” Jack said in a sing-song voice, mocking the way Rowan had taunted him earlier. “And you missed me while I was gone.”  
  
“I think the behavior you expressed when you were a human being three hundred years ago was adorable, yes. So, there you go, I acknowledge that at one point in your very long life, you were cute, I said nothing about right now,” Rowan said.  
  
“Denial, denial, denial,” Jack said, shaking his head. “But seriously, I tell you how I saved my sister and you think, ‘Hopscotch! How cute!’?”  
  
“Well, how do you react to someone telling you, ‘oh yeah, I fell through the ice and drowned?’ It’s… bizarre,” Rowan said. “It’s strange, though, you seem much less concerned with the fact that you actually died than the fact that you saved her.”  
  
“It always seemed like the more important part,” Jack said with a shrug.  
  
 _“That_  is what’s surprising about you, Jack Frost,” Rowan said. “You actually care about people. You’re smug and conceited-”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, and my ears are too big,” Jack said with a roll of the eyes.  
  
“You’re annoying as all hell… but at the end of the day, you care about people, you’re a decent person,” she said, beginning to braid her hair again. “I like knowing that about you. It makes me feel better about Jamie being around you.”  
  
“Aw, you like me,” Jack chuckled. Rowan rolled her eyes yet again. “It’s your turn, tell me the next part of your story.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” Rowan said, crawling under her blankets. She felt the cold much more strongly now that Jack was sitting so close and she wasn’t wearing layers, as she had every other time they were around each other. “So the night of the full moon was finally there, and after everyone went to bed, Jack and Miss Gates began their prowl around the house to collect their riches.”  
  
“This should be good,” Jack said.  
  
“Miss Gates led the way, dressed in men’s clothes that she had obtained from the wash, as they were easier to move quickly in. Jack proved himself useful when it came to locks that Miss Gates didn’t have a key for. She’d never admit it, but she admired the way he could quickly pick a lock. They took fine silver and candlesticks that cost more than Miss Gates made in a month. They crept quietly into the bedrooms and they stole gold cufflinks and the majority of the jewelry belonging to the lady of the house. All their treasures were tucked away in a sack, and Miss Gates had gotten a horse from the stables for escape.  
  
“While Miss Gates prepared the horse to be ridden, Jack fiddled with a sword that he had retrieved from the Governor’s collection. He had never handled a sword so exquisite in his life, and almost felt guilty about taking it. But he knew he might need some sort of weapon when it came to facing the sea witch.  
  
“As Miss Gates secured the sack with their winnings to the horse, Jack suddenly asked, ‘Why is there only one horse? If we’re stealing one, we might as well steal two, what difference will it make?’ Miss Gates simply climbed atop the saddle and smiled down at Jack.  
  
“‘I only need one,’ was her answer. ‘You’ve been such a great help, Jack, and I will never forget that, but I must be going.’”  
  
 _“What,”_  Jack said, eyes wide. “She was playing him the whole time?”  
  
Rowan laughed a bit. “Jack, the pirate, had a similar reaction. He watched her, mouth agape as she rode off with the treasure he’d helped her obtain. Treasure  _he_  had planned on taking and then ditching  _her_  so he could summon the sea witch. Quickly, he rushed back into the stables to prepare his own horse to pursue her with. She couldn’t get far, after all, they were on an island.”  
  
“By the time he mounted his own horse, she had, of course, disappeared. He rode down to the docks, knowing they were her best hope at escape. Jack had expected to find her attempting to steal a ship when he approached.”  
  
“But she wasn’t?” Jack asked, hooked on her every word.  
  
“No, she was standing at the edge of the dock, having let the horse wander off elsewhere. Holding up one of the Governor’s wife’s fine, gold necklaces, she seemed to be saying something before dropping the necklace into the water.  
  
“Jack abandoned the horse he had taken to rush across the dock, Miss Gates turning at the sound of his approaching footsteps. ‘Go away!’ she demanded as the water below them began to bubble.  
  
“‘Why are  _you_  summoning the sea witch?’ Jack said, grabbing for the golden candlestick from within the sack and tossing it in after the necklace she’d thrown.  
  
“‘What do you mean, why are  _you_  trying to summon her?’ was Miss Gate’s hasty response. ‘Get out of here, I have important things to discuss with her.’  
  
“Before Jack could reply that he had important things to discuss with the sea witch as well, an enormous figure burst forth from the water, standing tall and menacing while looking down upon them. She had large, bulging eyes like a fish, webbed hands and scales. Her hair was lanky, soaked, and black, sticking to her skin now that she had left the water.  
  
“‘I knew you two would show up at some point, I just never expected you to arrive together,’ she said.  
  
“‘I didn’t either,’ Miss Gates said, glaring at Jack who began to argue that Miss Gates wouldn’t have gotten half of her treasure if it weren’t for his help. She began to retort that he wouldn’t know where any of the riches even  _were_  in that household if it weren’t for her.  
  
“The sea witch grew impatient with their bickering and demanded their silence and to know why they summoned her. Miss Gates explained that she sought to break the curse placed on her mother, leaving her blind and ill. Jack wanted to break the curse that had been passed down to him, leaving him unlucky in just about everything he did. The sea witch simply smiled and said that if they both wanted their curses broken, they could work together to get her what she wanted.”  
  
“What did she want, then?” Jack asked, having remained quiet for quite a while now.  
  
“Seven enchanted gems, scattered around the island chain and heavily guarded. She gave them the next full moon as a deadline and disappeared beneath the ocean’s surface once more, taking the sack of treasures with her. Miss Gates sighed in frustration before rushing toward the nearby ship.  
  
“Jack asked her where exactly she was going and she said they needed a ship if they expected to collect any of the gems off the other islands. Jack asked if she even knew where to start looking, and all Miss Gates could do was glare at the man in response.  
  
“He gestured for her to follow him back toward the horses and said, ‘We’ll go to see a friend of mine, she should have more information for us.’”  
  
“The first witch,” Jack said.  
  
“Exactly,” Rowan said. “Miss Gates hesitated if only for a moment before falling into step beside him. He asked what her first name was, if only because he felt as though at this point, after she double-crossed him and now that they were supposed to be working together, they should at least be on a first name basis. She told him that her name was Anne, and then urged him to lead the way already, they didn’t have a lot of time.”  
  
Rowan yawned before stating, “And that’s all I have. For now.”  
  
“Damn it,” Jack mumbled. “You always do this when it’s getting good.”  
  
Rowan laughed. “Well, I can’t plan the whole thing in one sitting!”  
  
“Yeah but that ended way too early,” Jack sighed. “You should tell another one or something.”  
  
Rowan rested her head against her pillows and said, “Why don’t  _you_  tell another one? You’re over three centuries old, you have to have some good ones. Besides, it’s your turn.”  
  
“Aren’t you a bit old for bedtime stories?” Jack teased.  
  
“Aren’t  _you?”_  she replied, returning his smirk.  
  
She certainly had a point, there.  
  
Jack remained silent for a moment, mulling over the past few centuries for a story (preferably one without Melpomene) that he could tell.   
  
“How do you feel about war stories?”


	15. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, something significant (though not necessarily unexpected) happens in this chapter!

_"Oh, that was convincing, were you going through my stuff again?"_

_“After what happened last time? Of course not.”_

* * *

  **Chapter Fifteen: Complications**

* * *

  
  
“War stories?” Rowan repeated. So  _many_  wars had happened in the past three hundred years. Of course Jack would have some good war stories, depending on how involved with all of them he was. Her mind raced with events she had learned about in school, wondering if Jack had gotten to experience them firsthand.  
  
“I’d love to hear a war story,” she said.  
  
“It was Christmas Eve, 1914, World War I,” Jack said. He paused, looking down at Rowan and saying, “Are you sleeping _already?”_  
  
“Resting my eyes,” Rowan said, opening one brown eye to glance back up at him. “Keep talking, I’m listening.”  
  
Jack rolled his eyes before continuing. “So, it was Christmas Eve, 1914. I didn’t spend a lot of time on the war front. I’d seen quite a few wars in my time but the World Wars definitely earned their titles. But something drew me to no man’s land and the trenches that day.”  
  
“Trenches were supposed to be pretty bad,” Rowan mumbled, eyes still closed.  
  
“They were,” Jack said. “They were damp and cold and I’m sure me being there wasn’t helping matters. But it  _was_  Christmas, so the soldiers were attempting to celebrate, no shots were being fired. They were lighting candles and some of them were decorating makeshift trees. Someone in the German camp started singing Christmas carols and I stopped for a while to listen. My German’s  _still_  rusty but I knew the tune.”  
  
“You know some German?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Nur sehr wenig… I  _think_  that means ‘very little,’” Jack said.  _“North_  knows all sorts of languages. He even speaks flea, cat, dog… Talking to everyone’s pets is how he knows if you’ve been naughty or nice.”  
  
“Huh, I was wondering about that. But yeah, you were eavesdropping on the Germans.”  
  
“Right. One of them started singing Christmas carols, and I thought his peers could use a bit of a nudge to get into the spirit. So I sent some snowflakes their way, with just enough magic to make them smile and join in.  
  
“I made my way back to the British troops, you could still hear the Germans singing from their trenches. I was ready to try to get them to start caroling, too, when the Germans finished their song and the British began to applaud. Shortly after, they began singing their own carol, this one I understood. Some of them looked like it had been ages since the last time they had smiled.”  
  
Jack paused, watching Rowan who opened her eyes slightly to acknowledge that she was still awake and Jack should continue. “The Germans cheered for the British once their song had finished, and began yet another one of their own. When it came to be the British soldiers’ turn again, the Germans joined in. It was so bizarre, watching these sworn enemies singing across no man’s land with each other.”  
  
“I think I learned about this in history class in high school,” Rowan mumbled, closing her eyes again. Jack smiled.  
  
“The Germans called for the British to come over, promising not to shoot. The British, of course, weren’t exactly ready to do that and suggested the Germans come over instead. Two Germans did just that, emerging from their trenches and asking to meet with an officer. I don’t remember how the conversation went exactly, but it ended with them agreeing not to shoot until Christmas was over.”  
  
“The Christmas Truce,” Rowan said.  
  
“The Christmas Truce,” Jack said, nodding his head, though Rowan’s eyes were still closed. “Soldiers from both sides started climbing out of their trenches, meeting in the middle and conversing, shaking hands. It was amazing, but still… a bit boring.”  
  
Rowan sighed, “Oh man, what did you do to ruin the polite conversation?”  
  
“I might have thrown a snowball at one of the Germans,” Jack smiled. “The conditions of the truce were that no one was going to shoot anyone, not that there wouldn’t be any friendly snowball fighting.”  
  
“So you caused a World War I snowball fight.”  
  
“Yeah, that one didn’t make it into the history books,” Jack said. “You should’ve seen all of them, though, these tough soldiers laughing and running around like little kids. There wasn’t a clear winner, but none of them cared. I flew around both sides, giving them ammo and throwing more snowballs. I hit a few officers that were kind of hesitant to join in.   
  
“As soon as the game settled down, they talked and traded supplies and souvenirs. I saw a lot of them trading buttons from their uniforms. A lot more of the Germans spoke English than the British spoke German, so there was a lot of conversation, a lot of laughs. For a handful of hours, they weren’t the enemy, they were all just soldiers.  
  
“It’s one of my favorite war stories, because it’s so easy to forget that the people fighting, allies or not, they’re all  _people_ , regardless of flag or politics,” he said, his mind quickly rushing back to that day in Antarctica with Pitch. Perhaps a Christmas Truce of their own was in store? The Guardians were still mostly lost when it came to the Shadow people.  
  
He hated that he was considering this. Some Christmas carols would not be enough to settle the personal grudges held by everyone involved.  
  
A lot of things didn’t work out quite as nicely as the Christmas Truce of 1914 somehow had.  
  
“Rowan?” Jack said, realizing they’d both been quiet for a while now. Rowan shifted only slightly, pulling at her blankets.  
  
“Rowan,” he said again, tapping her shoulder, which she had just covered with her blankets.  
  
“Good story,” she mumbled, eyes still closed. Jack watched her a moment more, her breathing becoming steady as she lay comfortably in her bed. Jack tapped her shoulder a few more times and received no response.  
  
She’d fallen asleep. Understandable, it was getting late and she had class in the morning. Jack yawned himself, reaching over to turn off her lamp, but hesitating. There were Shadow People lurking around, after all, maybe leaving the lamp light on wouldn’t be a terrible idea.  
  
Pulling his hand back, he rubbed his eyes. When was the last time  _he_  had slept? It had to have been before the whole thing with the Shadow People the night before last. He’d been too paranoid, worried that they’d find him in his sleep, consume him in the darkness again.  
  
The vacant pillow beside Rowan’s head seemed incredibly inviting.  
  
“I’ll just… rest my eyes for a minute,” Jack mumbled to himself, lying down and setting his head on the pillow. It smelled nice, some sort of floral scent. It vaguely reminded him of the Warren. Rowan must have washed her bedding recently.  
  
The fabric was soft and far more comfortable that he had expected, and the blankets, which he laid on top of, were rather comfortable as well. He had barely begun to consider that maybe he should get some sheets and a comforter for his mattress back at his cabin when he drifted off to sleep himself, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.  
  
It couldn’t have been more than a few hours when Jack awoke with a start, having heard the sound of Rowan’s window opening. He cursed, remembering that he hadn’t locked it when he closed it earlier. Without thinking much further he grabbed his staff and crept toward the figure climbing inside, his staff at the ready until, in the light of the moon and the dim lamp, it became apparent who was entering.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Jack hissed at Calliope, careful to keep his voice low. Rowan would certainly not be pleased that some other mythical being was coming into her apartment unannounced and without permission.  
  
Not to mention, he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about the fact that he was  _still in her apartment_  after she had fallen asleep hours before.  
  
“What am I doing here?” Calliope repeated, her voice at a whisper as well. “What are  _you_  doing here?”  
  
“I asked you first.”  
  
“You are  _such_  a child,” Calliope said, rolling her eyes. She held up the list in her hand. “I’m looking for the Mortal Muse.”  
  
“So why are you  _here?”_  Jack asked again.  
  
“She,” Calliope said, gesturing to Rowan’s sleeping form, “is next on my list.”  
  
“What?” Jack said. He shook his head almost immediately. Rowan? The Mortal Muse? The target of those soul-eating creatures? “No, no, it can’t be  _Rowan._ ”  
  
“Is she the one you’ve been spying on?” Calliope said, raising a brow.  
  
“None of your business,” he snapped.  
  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Calliope said, unrolling the list to reveal several names that had already been crossed out and pointing to the next unmarked one. Jack took the list to better examine it and sighed. The next line read:  
  
 **Rowan Jean Sawyer: Nice / December 1 / Age: 20 / Pennsylvania, USA**  
  
“She  _would_  be on the nice list, Little Miss Cautious. It’s not her,” he whispered, handing Calliope back the list.  
  
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Calliope said, approaching the bed and watching as Rowan slept on. “She’s a Sagittarius, and it’s not as though it’s uncommon for a Muse to attract the attention of a Guardian.”  
  
“What are you going to do?” Jack said suspiciously, moving to stand between Rowan and the Muse. He chose not to comment on Rowan “attracting his attention.” It was her stories, not her! Why was this so difficult for everyone else to grasp?  
  
Still, he remained where he stood, unwilling to let Calliope do anything that might cause Rowan harm.  
  
“I’m not going to hurt her, I just need to touch her for a moment, she won’t even know,” Calliope said, pushing Jack aside and examining Rowan critically. She leaned over, pushing some of the girl’s bangs from her face, causing Rowan to swat at Calliope’s hand in her sleep.  
  
Gently, Calliope set her hand against Rowan’s cheek, in much the same way a mother would check a child for a fever. Jack watched as Calliope’s brow furrowed and she continued watching Rowan. The eldest Muse seemed deep in thought and Jack wasn’t sure what to make of it. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths before pulling her hand away and looking back to her list.  
  
“Well?” Jack said as Calliope pulled a feather from her dress and pressed it to the list. In one grand gesture, she slid the feather across the page, leaving a trail of shining black ink on the list’s surface.  
  
Jack looked over Calliope’s shoulder at the page and his stomach sank. Every name leading up to Rowan’s had been crossed out. Rowan’s had been circled.  
  
“I can stop looking,” Calliope said at last, rolling up the list after tucking the feather back into her dress.  
  
“It can’t be her, you’ve made some kind of mistake,” Jack whispered hastily.  
  
“I know the Mortal Muse, I have never been wrong,” Calliope said sternly. She glanced around at the drawings on the wall and said, “Look at all she’s created, is it that hard to believe?”  
  
“Check again, it can’t be her,” Jack said, shaking his head.  
  
“I’m sorry, Jack, but your friend is who the Shadow People are looking for,” Calliope whispered. “Speaking of which, you should stay here until the sun comes up, we’ll call a meeting then. I have to speak with North.”  
  
“So I’m just supposed to stay here and make sure nothing tries to suck out her soul?” he said, having difficulty not raising his voice. “What am I supposed to tell her?!”  
  
“Nothing yet, we’ll figure that out at the meeting,” Calliope said. “But yes, you need to make sure no harm comes to her. Right now all we know is that your staff can destroy the Shadow People, so you need to keep an eye on her until the sun comes out.”  
  
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered.  
  
“I can’t either, you’ve been gallivanting around with her the entire time. If you knew more about us, you’d have been able to save me a search,” Calliope said, approaching the open window.  
  
 _“That’s_  what you’re concerned about?” Jack said, narrowing his eyes at her.  
  
“Finding her as soon as possible was a top priority. Now it’s only to keep her powers safe. Goodnight, Jack,” Calliope said, turning back from the winter spirit at last as her body began to transform into that of a bird’s, soaring out the window and dodging the falling snow as she went.  
  
Jack groaned, running his hands over his hair before looking back at Rowan, still entirely unaware of what had just happened. She shivered at the draft from the open window, pulling her blankets closer to herself, still deep in sleep.  
  
Jack slid her window closed, careful to lock it this time and approached her bed yet again.  
  
Was this why she could see him? Did her belief have anything to do with it? His heart sank at the idea. What if this whole thing, their whole  _friendship_  had been based on this weird connection between the Muses and the Guardians?  
  
All he had wanted was to be her friend and hear her stories; this complicated everything.  
  
“I promised Jamie I would protect you,” Jack whispered, sitting back down on the bed and watching her in the dim light of the lamp that he still hadn’t shut off. His mind raced back to the other night when the Shadow People had consumed him with their darkness. That feeling of dread, the anxiety, the hopelessness.  
  
“I’m not going to break my promise, I’m a Guardian,” he said, flicking her bangs away from her face as Calliope had earlier. Rowan responded again, by swatting at his hand and shifting slightly. “I won’t let them hurt you, Rowan.”

* * *

  
  
Rowan’s alarm barely had a chance to wake her when she heard a  _thud_  as though something had fallen off her bed, along with a  _crash_  as though it had hit her bedside table on the way down. Rowan sat upright with a start as someone began to curse from the ground beside her bed.  
  
She leaned over, the cell phone alarm still beeping annoyingly, to find Jack massaging his forehead and glaring at the table corner. Rowan watched him quizzically before reaching over to shut her alarm off.  
  
“You all right?” she asked. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.”  
  
“The, uh, alarm took me by surprise,” Jack groaned. “And I guess, um, well, my story must have put  _me_  to sleep, too. Sorry about that.”  
  
“Your story was good, I was just tired,” Rowan assured him. “And it’s fine, I mean… all you were doing was sleeping, right?”  
  
“Right,” Jack said quickly.  
  
“Oh, that was convincing, were you going through my stuff again?” Rowan said, raising a brow.  
  
“After what happened last time? Of course not,” Jack said, finally grabbing for the edge of the bedside table in order to steady himself as he rose back to his feet. “I’m still shaken up from the alarm is all.”  
  
“If you say so,” Rowan said suspiciously, crawling out of her bed and walking across the room to flip her light switch, which better illuminated the room than her lamp had. The sun hadn’t quite come up yet, which made the artificial lighting necessary.  
  
“Well, I need to get ready, I don’t know if you were going to stick around for coffee or something- do you drink coffee?” Rowan asked, fiddling with her coffee maker.  
  
“Never had it, don’t know,” Jack said hastily. “Are you, uh, really getting ready this early? The sun’s not even up yet.”  
  
“I know, but I have to eat something, put my face on and everything else,” Rowan said mid-yawn, gesturing to the makeup bag in the corner.  
  
 _“That’s_  what’s different about your face,” Jack said, as though he had just figured out a very difficult math problem.  
  
Rowan laughed. “You seriously didn’t figure that out?”  
  
“I could see your freckles better,” he said. “And your eyes were different somehow.”  
  
“Eyeliner is magical, and my freckles haven’t ever been that prominent to start with,” Rowan shrugged. “At least I don’t draw my moles on, I knew a girl that did that, she could’ve at least been consistent is all I’m saying.”  
  
Rowan had two small beauty marks on her face, one near the inner corner of her right eye, and the other on her right cheek, just below the cheekbone.  
  
“Oh, I remember when people wore fake ones,” Jack said, shaking his head slightly.  
  
Rowan ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into an elastic in preparation for washing her face and watched the boy for a moment. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact and was fidgeting quite a bit. He was careful to keep his eyes fixed on her drawings on the walls, moving his staff from one hand to the other.  
  
“Are you okay, Jack?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Just, uh, kinda shaken up from the whole thing with the Shadow People the other day, I’d rather stick around here until the sun comes up, if that’s okay.”  
  
“I thought you took care of them,” Rowan said, furrowing her brow.  
  
“I was able to get rid of  _some_  of them, they’re still out there,” he said vaguely.  
  
“Well I don’t know how much safer you’d be here than anywhere else, but sure, you can hang out. I mean, I won’t be too entertaining…”  
  
“That’s fine,” Jack said, sitting down at the dining room table. “Just go about your usual business, pretend I’m not even here.”  
  
“… all right then,” she said, watching him in confusion for no more than a few moments before disappearing into the bathroom. As she turned on the faucet to begin washing her face, a million questions ran through her mind.  
  
Why did Jack suddenly seem so uneasy? He had cared little about the Shadow People the night before, but was that why he had stayed the night? Every time she thought she was starting to figure Jack Frost out, he threw her for another loop.  
  
She never thought she’d see the day he seemed  _worried._

* * *


	16. Hard To Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the Muses are introduced (if briefly) and some arguments are had! And plans are made! And stuff!

_“So we’re placing the fate of the Muses and pretty much the belief, faith, and creative energy of the entire human race in the hands of Jack Frost.  Great.  How could_ that  _possibly end badly?”_

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Hard To Say**

* * *

  
  
Jack leaned against the wall beside the great fireplace in the North Pole, arms crossed and hood up as the others filtered into the pole, painfully slowly, in his opinion. This meeting was to involve all the Guardians and all the Muses.  
  
Muse after Muse shuffled in, the ones who could fly traveling that way and others finding different methods to arrive. Many chose to catch a ride on one of Sandy’s dream sand creatures. An orb of silvery blue light, a moonbeam, accompanied each Muse. If the situation had been different, perhaps Jack would have watched them all arrive. Perhaps he’d find their modes of transportation fascinating or watch the dream sand creatures in awe as he usually did.  
  
He had barely greeted the other Guardians as they arrived, his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him.  
  
“Well, by now you all know why you’re here,” Calliope said, balancing atop the railing separating the platform from the globe. North stood beside her, arms crossed. Her moonbeam hovered close to her feet. Jack finally brought his eyes up from the ground and to the eldest Muse.  
  
“The Mortal Muse has been identified. Her name is Rowan Sawyer.”  
  
“That sounds like a boy’s name,” Polyhymnia said. The hem of her white gown dragged across the ground, a few of the elves had already tripped over it. The moonbeam nearest to her rushed to help the elves upright again each time.  
  
“It’s  _modern_. Sounds American. Is she American?” Clio said, adjusting the straps on her corset, decorated with various clock gears.  
  
“Yes, she is,” Calliope said. Before she could continue, yet another Muse had to chime in.  
  
“There’s never been an  _American_  Muse before,” Thalia said thoughtfully, twirling her mask around in her hands.  
  
“That’s because the last time a Mortal Muse became an  _Immortal_  Muse was before the United States was even a concept,” Clio said.  
  
“I know it’s very difficult for you all not to talk but I’m going to need you to  _try_  for a moment,” Calliope said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Her tone alone gave away that this was a problem she had often with the eight others.  
  
“Rowan Sawyer is an art student, she is twenty years old and very much unaware of her powers, if what Jack has told us is anything to go by,” North said, glancing at the younger Guardian who immediately focused on the floor once again.  
  
“Not that he told us much,” Bunny added.  
  
“What else is there to say?” Jack said, annoyed.  
  
“Oh, is this the girl he was stalking?” Euterpe asked, her attention having been on a music box that she had found unguarded when she entered the pole. As she drew her attention away from the toy and to Jack, an elf soon appeared to snatch the box from her grasp and take it to the wrapping station, leaving the Muse pouting.  
  
“I wasn’t  _stalking_  her,” Jack snapped.  
  
 _“So_  defensive,” Melpomene commented, though she seemed delighted as Jack glared at her.  
  
“Yeah, it’s the same girl,” Calliope said. “Though evidently Jack Frost can be around a Mortal Muse for a week and not realize.”  
  
“In Jack’s defense,” Tooth said immediately, cutting Jack off as he opened his mouth to retort. “I’ve met Rowan, and I’m much more familiar with the Muses and have spent more time with them than Jack has. I didn’t suspect Rowan either.”  
  
“I doubt I’d be able to figure it out,” Thalia said, offering Jack an assuring smile.  
  
“Well of course  _you_  wouldn’t, Thalia,” Melpomene mumbled with a roll of the eye.  
  
“If you two start fighting again, I  _swear_  I will serve you up to the Shadow People personally,” Calliope hissed at Melpomene and Thalia. They simply glared at one another, their respective moonbeams hovering close together, as though trying to stay away from the conflict.  
  
“Okay, okay, so she’s in art school, what else?” asked Terpsichore. She had long, wiry limbs, sun-kissed skin and wore a tight ensemble. “Do the Shadow People know she’s the Mortal Muse yet? Or are they still looking for her?”  
  
“They don’t know yet, and the longer we can keep it that way, the better,” Urania said. Her moonbeam seemed to almost perch upon her shoulder. If they had any expressions to speak of, this orb of light would appear the happiest, curled up against the side of Urania’s neck. “I only fear that putting her under protection might draw more attention to her.”  
  
“Well, Jack will be her guard,” North said simply, as though it were obvious.  
  
“What?” Jack said, pulling his hood down at last.  
  
“You are our best option!” North said. “You are the only one with a weapon that has been tested against the Shadow People _and_  been proven successful. Not to mention, despite suggestions that you  _stop doing so,_  you have been spending time with Miss Sawyer for the past week anyway. Perhaps if the Shadow People have noticed this, your continued presence there will seem less suspicious.”  
  
“So we’re placing the fate of the Muses and pretty much the belief, faith, and creative energy of the entire human race in the hands of Jack Frost,” Euterpe said, furrowing her brow. “Great. How could  _that_  possibly end badly?”  
  
Sandy floated into the middle of the platform, in full view of both the Muses and the Guardians, as images began to float above his head in rapid succession. Jack noticed a snowflake, the moon, Pitch’s silhouette and more.  
  
“Sandy’s right,” Bunny said. “Jack helped defeat Pitch, he saved the Guardians and we’re all stronger now because of him. If anyone can handle this, if  _anyone_  can keep the Mortal Muse safe, it’s him.”  
  
Jack couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, the first genuine one that had occurred since he learned of the Mortal Muse’s identity. Bunny and Sandy’s sentiment was nice to hear, to say the least.  
  
“And the rest of us?” Erato asked. “Do we just go on as we did before we found her? Hiding out with some moonbeams and hoping that if they find us we’ll be able to get away? There’s only so long we can hide.”  
  
“We have to learn more about the Shadow People before we can properly try to defeat them,” Tooth said. “And we can’t exactly go out looking to fight them as a group right now, North has to focus on Christmas.”  
  
“Why don’t we just ask Pitch?” Erato said. No one looked more surprised than Melpomene at the other Muse’s suggestion. “I hate to agree with Melpomene, but it would save us  _so much_  time and guesswork, and we could just dive right into trying to get rid of them.”  
  
“He cannot be trusted,” North stressed. “It is not my first choice to have the rest of you in hiding and the Mortal Muse under protection until we figure this out but right now it is the best we can do.”  
  
“The best you can do is swallow your pride and talk to Pitch,” Melpomene said. “He knows how to defeat them!”  
  
“Then why hasn’t  _he_  done anything?” Calliope asked. “They’ll destroy belief if they get to the Mortal Muse and become more powerful, surely he knows that it will harm him as well.”  
  
“He’s  _too weak_ , he needs the Guardians and  _we need him_ ,” Melpomene said.  
  
“Forget it!” Bunny said, approaching the Muse, glaring down at her and clenching his teeth. “That  _creature_  tried to destroy us, he won’t turn around give us information to  _help_  us. He doesn’t care about humanity or children. He doesn’t care about order or compromise, he cares about power. And if you really think he cares about  _you_ , then I pity you. You are a  _fool.”_  
  
“Bunnymund,  _you_  are the fool; you are  _all_  fools! Your pride will be your downfall!” Melpomene said. The tension between her and the overgrown rabbit so thick in the air, it was uncomfortable to even shift one’s weight.  
  
Urania was the first one to break the silence that had been caused. “As long as they don’t find Rowan, the Shadow People can’t take her powers and cause the trouble they’re planning. Christmas is less than a month away. We just have to lie low and keep Rowan safe until then. At that point, North and the other Guardians, maybe even a few of us, can go out and try to figure out what we can do to contain and destroy the Shadow People. Once we weaken them, destroy their moral and their unity, we won’t have to worry about them anymore.”  
  
“What do I tell her?” Jack said at last.  
  
“Does she need to know anything?” Terpsichore asked.  
  
“I assume we’d  _have_  to tell her if we relocate her to place her under protection,” Calliope said.  
  
“There’s no need to completely uproot her from her life, especially if the Shadow People don’t know what she is,” Urania pointed out.  
  
“I can’t just start following her around constantly, she’ll get suspicious. She already  _is_  suspicious, I could tell,” Jack said.  
  
“You don’t have to be around her constantly,” Tooth said. “Only at night, during the day you can go about your usual business. In fact, you  _should_. You need to keep the kids believing in you.”  
  
“Rowan deserves to know what’s going on,” North said, lightly stroking his beard. He pointed to a nearby pair of yetis. “Bring her to the pole. We will explain.”  
  
The yetis babbled a response before beginning walking toward the room where North stored his snow globes. Jack quickly flew over and blocked their way, halting the creatures in their path. “Wait, right  _now?”_  he said.  
  
“Why not?” North asked.  
  
“She’s taking a final exam right now!” Jack said. The others were clearly confused about his reasoning. It was just so… _responsible._  He elaborated, “If we tear her away from her exam, she’ll probably tase me again.”  
  
“Again?” Tooth said.  
  
“She  _tased_  you?” Bunny said, unable to help his laughter. Jack immediately rolled his eyes, regretting making that comment as the other Guardians and quite a few of the Muses joined in on Bunny’s laughing at Jack’s expense.  
  
“Are you all done yet?” Jack asked.  
  
“Not by a long shot,” Bunny laughed.  
  
“And all this time we were trying to keep  _her_  safe from Jack!” North chuckled. “Clearly she can fend for herself!”  
  
“I wonder if tasers work on Shadow People,” Thalia smirked. “She might not need him at all.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, it’s very funny that I got tased,” Jack said with a sigh.  
  
“You deserved it, Peeping Tom,” Erato giggled.  
  
“Nothing I say is going to convince any of you that I’m not a pervert, right?” Jack said, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers.  
  
“Basically,” Thalia said, shrugging.  
  
“Bring Rowan when she is finished with her tests, I will send you with a snow globe,” North said to Jack. He turned his attention back to the rest of the Muses. “Perhaps it would be best if  _all nine_  of you were not here. We do not want to overwhelm her.”  
  
“Goodbye,” Melpomene said immediately, placing her mask to her face and disappearing from the spot, taking her moonbeam with her.  
  
“Well that was easy,” Calliope said, raising a brow.  
  
“She’s probably filling Pitch in with as much as she can without prompting you to kill her,” Thalia commented.  
  
“I want to get out of here,” Terpsichore said. “As much as I’d like to meet the potential Muse, I don’t like being here this time of year with this kind of threat. It’s  _always_  dark this far north in December.”  
  
“Same,” Erato said. “Plus, I was working with a romance author earlier, I want to revisit her.”  
  
“Perhaps just Urania and I should stay,” Calliope said. “She can meet the rest of you in due time.”  
  
The other Muses mumbled among themselves, shuffling to their feet and seeming to agree that their presence was not needed. Thalia placed her mask to her face and disappeared, others began mounting fantastic sand creatures that Sandy began conjuring for their use.  
  
“Let us know if you think this one will make the transition,” Clio said to Calliope, fiddling with some of the gears on her outfit. Jack jumped in surprise as a pair of mechanical wings sprang from the back of her ensemble.  
  
“What the hell…” Jack said, unable to help but reach forward and brush his hand against the material.  
  
“Like it?” Clio said, clearly proud. “Based on Leonardo’s designs.”  
  
“Oh, Leonardo,” Urania said with a smile.  
  
“Leonardo Da Vinci?” Jack asked, eyes still fixed on the wings.  
  
“He was one of our favorites,” Clio said.  
  
“I do miss the Renaissance,” Urania sighed.  
  
“We should go visit some time,” Clio suggested, kicking off the ground as the wings began to flap and keep her airborne. “It will be fun to watch everyone work again.”  
  
“We should,” Urania nodded.  
  
“I’ll let you know what I think of this one, Clio,” Calliope said, responding to Clio’s earlier statement at last. Turning to the others, she reminded them, “Stay safe.”  
  
The remaining Muses said their farewells, flying off into the distance either by fancy flying device in Clio’s case, her own flying abilities in Polyhymnia’s case, or Sandy’s dream creatures.  
  
The remaining group was strangely silent after the other Muses had departed, as though unsure what to do now.  
  
“We can have the meeting in my workshop,” North suggested, ushering the others in the direction of the room in question. Jack had barely begun to walk that way before North set a large hand on the boy’s shoulder.  
  
“You are troubled, Jack,” North said.  
  
“What am I supposed to tell her?” Jack said, looking up at the man. The others were kind enough to keep their distance, some already inside North’s workshop while the others lingered near the door. “‘Oh, hey, Rowan, so there’s these dark creatures trying to eat your soul because you’re a Mortal Muse and they could use your powers to destroy humanity. Oh, and the only way to become an Immortal Muse is to  _die_  the right way. So I have to hang out at your apartment and make sure that doesn’t happen.’ I don’t think she’s going to take it well.”  
  
“You do not have to tell her everything, you will bring her here where we can  _all_  explain situation,” North said.  
  
“I just… I don’t like thinking about the whole ‘transition’ from one to another,” Jack said.   
  
“Rowan Sawyer is mortal, Jack,” North said. “Whether she becomes a full Muse or not, she  _is_  going to die one day. But there is no reason it has to be soon. This is why we are placing her under protection.”  
  
“So she doesn’t meet her death via Shadow People,” Jack said.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“North?” Jack asked.  
  
“Yes, Jack?”  
  
“Mortal Muses… can they see Guardians regardless of their personal belief?” Jack asked hesitantly.  
  
“You want to know if she truly believes in you or if it is due to her own powers that she can see you,” North said, smiling softly. Jack didn’t respond verbally, simply stared at the floor for a moment before nodding but slightly. “I looked into her records. Rowan Sawyer wrote me letters until she was thirteen, Jack.”  
  
Jack glanced back up from the floor, raising a brow.  
  
“Even though she stopped writing, her light stayed illuminated on the globe until she turned eighteen. Once someone is considered an adult, they are no longer represented on the globe, regardless of belief,” North continued. “I spoke to Tooth earlier, and Rowan did not lose her teeth until much later than her peers. Bunny recalls leaving a few eggs for her even after her friends stopped going on Easter Egg hunts. Sandy still brings her dreams.”  
  
“So, she still believes in the Guardians,” Jack said.  
  
“She is not unlike her cousin. While others insisted we were not real, she continued with her beliefs. Secretly, of course, to avoid taunting,” North said. “The Mortal Muse is blessed with a strong imagination. She believes in you, Jack, just as she believes in the rest of us.”  
  
“Thanks,” Jack said. “I know it’s petty, to worry about that, but-”  
  
“It is understandable, you are fond of all your believers,” North said. “Now, let’s get you a snow globe so we may all speak to the infamous Rowan Sawyer.”

* * *

  
  
“How do you think you did?” Shirley asked Rowan, meeting her outside the small lecture hall. Rowan had finished ten minutes earlier and had agreed to wait for Shirley outside the room. She had few plans for the night, maybe ordering a pizza and catching up on the shows she had missed while finishing her projects the week before. She could spare a few moments in order to see Shirley after the test before they went their separate ways.   
  
The hallway was eerily quiet and bare, except for some strange installations from the fine arts department.  
  
“I don’t like to form opinions on exams until I get my results back,” Rowan said. “Hate to say a test was easy and then get a D.”  
  
“True. What was that last slide identification, though? I swear I spent ten minutes trying to remember the artist, my mind was just… blank,” Shirley groaned. The pair began walking out of the building and toward the parking lot, a light snow having already started to fall. Rowan adjusted her scarf at the sight of the snowflakes, smiling softly. Snow would never quite be the same again.  
  
“Rowan?” Shirley said. It seemed that the snow had distracted Rowan, her pace having slowed considerably and Shirley standing a good four paces ahead of her. “You listening?”  
  
“Oh, right, the slide identification. The O’keefe one?” Rowan said, quickening her pace to catch up with her friend.  
  
“O’KEEFE! That was it, how could I forget her name? Ugh,” Shirley said, burring her face in her hands. “O’Keefe. It  _was ‘_ Ram’s Head Morning Glory and Little Hills,’ right? 1935?”  
  
“Names are hard,” Rowan said. “I thought it was ‘Ram’s Head White Hollylock and Little Hills.’”  
  
“Goddamn it,” Shirley said.  
  
“Did you know the other slides?” Rowan asked. “You should get partial credit for coming that close to the title… that is, if the title  _I_  thought it was is actually right.”  
  
“Yeah. At least, I think I did. Ugh, I’m so ready for these stupid finals to be over.”  
  
“Just a few more days! Then the Winter Exhibition and then Christmas Break. Plus we’re done with real exams, everything else is just critique on our projects.”  
  
“True. Granted, I still need to  _finish_  my project for tomorrow,” Shirley said, leaning against a black car that they approached with a dramatic sigh.  
  
“Gonna wait for Adam? I can give you a ride home now,” Rowan offered.  
  
“Nah, you go on, he and I have to go get more paint anyway, the supply store completely ran out of white and won’t get more until the morning.”  
  
“Terrible timing,” Rowan winced.  
  
“Pretty much. I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
  
“Definitely, good luck with your project.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Rowan walked further down the parking lot toward where she had parked earlier, frowning at the distance she had left to walk. She had been running late that morning and hadn’t managed to get a spot any closer than just shy of the very edge of the student lot.   
  
The walk always seemed longer when it was snowing. At least it wasn’t dark yet, the sun had only just begun to set.  
  
Finally beside her car, she unlocked it, tossing her backpack in the back seat and settling into the driver’s seat. She turned the car on and ran the wipers to get rid of the snow that had collected on her windshield since she had parked. Leaning back, Rowan sighed, rubbing together her hands, hoping the friction would warm them better than her fingerless gloves did. She had to at least wait a few more minutes for the car to warm up before she left.  
  
As Rowan reached for her seatbelt, a sudden cold gust of wind came from her right side, followed shortly by the sound of the passenger door slamming shut. Rowan jumped at the sound and turned, frightened, before seeing Jack settling himself into her passenger seat.  
  
She let out a breath in relief, realizing it wasn’t something hoping to do her harm. “You scared the hell out of me, don’t sneak up on me like that!”  
  
He nervously smiled at her and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”  
  
“It’s fine,” she said. She hesitated a moment, remembering the last time she’d seen him, mere hours earlier. “Hey, you doing any better than you were this morning? You seemed really worried.”  
  
“More or less,” Jack said, more as a question than a statement.   
  
“Okay,” Rowan said skeptically. “Did something happen, though? Like, last night you seemed fine and this morning, well, not so much.”  
  
“I’ll explain in a bit,” Jack said. He reached forward and adjusted the dial on the vents in front of him. The car was beginning to warm up, which meant the air from the vents finally was, too. “That’s, well, actually why I’m here.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Rowan asked, pulling out of her parking spot at last and starting toward her apartment complex. Jack never had a  _reason_  for visiting before. Well, not outside wanting to know what happened in her story or trying to peer pressure her into flying with him.  
  
He never had a  _serious_  reason.  
  
“There’s, uh… something important that we have to discuss,” Jack said, keeping his eyes fixed on her dashboard.  
  
“Okay, what is it?” Rowan’s mind began to race. What could he have to discuss with her?  
  
“Not here.”  
  
“Jack, what’s going on?” she asked as she stopped at a red light and turned to face him. He didn’t return the gesture.  
  
“We need to go to the North Pole,” he said vaguely.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“We just do, can you trust me on this?”  
  
“No, tell me what’s going on,” she insisted.  
  
“Something important, Rowan, important enough that we have to go see the other Guardians, will you just do that for me?”  
  
Before Rowan could respond, the driver behind her honked their horn at her, which drew her attention back to the traffic light, now green. She pressed her foot to the gas pedal.  
  
“But  _why_  do  _I_  have to go?” she said.  
  
“Because it’s about you,” he said weakly.  
  
 _“What’s_  about me? I need you to elaborate here, Jack, you’re freaking me out,” Rowan said, struggling to keep her gaze on the road before her rather than the winter spirit in her passenger seat. Her nerves were clear in the very slight tremble in her voice. She hoped he dismissed it as shivering.  
  
“I don’t know that this is something I should tell you while you’re driving,” he said, seeming to have no issues staring at the road instead of her. What was he hiding? Rowan groaned in response.  
  
 _“Fine_ , have to be difficult. We’ll be back at the apartment in like two minutes.”  
  
The remainder of the drive was spent in the most awkward of silences, both parties fidgeting uncomfortably until finally Rowan pulled into a parking spot and shut off her car. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, she climbed out shortly after Jack exited the car himself.  
  
“So what’s going on?” she asked, her breath clouding in front of her from the cold.  
  
“It’s the Shadow People, Rowan,” Jack said, stepping closer to her and speaking in tones far more serious than Rowan was used to. If she wasn’t uneasy before, she definitely was now. His next statement didn’t help. “They’re looking for  _you.”_  
  
“What? Why the hell would they want  _me?”_  Rowan said immediately, staring at Jack in disbelief. Surely there had to be better souls to claim as a prize than hers. This was some kind of stupid joke, right?  _He_  was making up stories now, right?  
  
“That’ll all be explained at the meeting, please, just come with me to the North Pole and we’ll fill you in on everything else,” Jack said hastily.  
  
“A meeting with  _Santa Claus?_  About shadows trying to  _eat me?_  Please tell me you’re joking.”  
  
“I’m not, and it’s more complicated than that. You really need to come with me. And it’s not just North, it’s the other Guardians and-”  
  
“I don’t have time for this, Jack!” Rowan said, a bit too loudly it would seem, as some other residents walking by stopped to watch her. She sighed and quickly walked along to the back of the covered parking garage, where Jack quickly flew to catch up with her. Here they would at least be out of sight and earshot of the other residents without wasting time getting to her apartment.  
  
“I have to turn in a project tomorrow, I have to finish this semester and pass my finals so my GPA doesn’t drop. If I get below a 3.0 I lose my scholarships.  _Do you understand how expensive college is?_  I spent half my paycheck on paint last week, Jack. _Paint._  I have classes to go to and  _pass with decent scores the first time around_  so I don’t have even  _more_  student loans once I get out of here! I can’t just go off and play at the North Pole!” Rowan said.  
  
“This is  _important,_  Rowan, you  _have_  to come,” Jack said, rolling his eyes slightly at her reasons behind not being able to go. “I’ll bring you back in plenty of time to get to class tomorrow morning but I need to take you to the pole. Please, just come with me.”  
  
“What if I don’t?”  
  
“That’s not really an option,” Jack said. “If you don’t come willingly with me, then North will probably send his Yetis for you. Again,  _this is important.”_  
  
“But Jack,” Rowan said, leaning against the concrete of the parking structure and pushing her hair out of her face in frustration, “Why  _me?_  I thought you said they were after the Muses or whatever.”  
  
“They’ll explain everything there,” he assured her. “And I promise, Rowan, nothing is going to happen to you, I’m not going to let the Shadow People get to you.”  
  
“You can’t be around all the time,” she said, shaking her head.   
  
“I’m going to have to be,” Jack said. He pulled a snow globe from the pocket of his jacket and held it up in front of her. “Just come with me, everything will be explained.”  
  
“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the snow globe.  
  
“It’s a portal, it’s how we’re getting there,” he said.  
  
Rowan twirled three small strands of hair in her hands, creating a small braid as she bit her bottom lip. How exactly was she supposed to handle this? She couldn’t just ignore it and hope it went away. If the Shadow People were anything like Jack, they weren’t something that could just be ignored away.  
  
But did she want to know more about what was going on? Part of her still clung to the possibility that Jack was playing some kind of trick on her, but something about his serious mannerisms gave away the terrifying truth of the situation. It was bad, whatever was going on. Her stomach dropped as dread consumed her, heart racing.  
  
What could  _possibly_  be going on? It seemed that she could either continue to resist and work herself into a full-blown panic attack or she could go with Jack and find out what exactly was happening. “… we’ll be back before tomorrow?”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
“Fine,” Rowan said, sighing deeply and stepping away from the concrete wall.  
  
“North Pole,” Jack whispered to the snow globe before tossing it forward. The swirling portal appeared and Rowan took a step back, watching it with wide, terrified eyes.  
  
“We’re going inside that thing?” she mumbled.  
  
“Trust me,” Jack said, offering her his hand.  
  
“I feel like I fell headfirst into a young adult fantasy novel and I’m really not liking it,” Rowan said, still watching the portal nervously.  
  
“You’ll be okay,” he said.  
  
After another moment of hesitation, Rowan extended a shaking hand to take Jack’s. She knew the flesh would be cold to the touch, but as her bare fingers touched his, she was still surprised at the goose bumps rushing up her arm.  
  
And yet, there was still something comforting about it. He was starting to become familiar, safe.  
  
She held her breath and walked with him through the portal.


	17. Memento Mori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of suicide and death

_"It’s not up to you, Do you suppose that I_ wanted _immortality? Do you want to know how_ I _came to be this way, Rowan?”_

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Memento Mori**

* * *

  
  
Rowan stumbled, feeling as though the floor had been jerked out from beneath her feet. She tightened her grip on Jack’s hand as she attempted not to fall. There was a clatter as Jack’s staff fell to the ground and he grabbed for her shoulder with his now-free hand to steady her.  
  
“You okay? It takes some getting used to,” Jack said.  
  
“I’m fine, I’m okay,” Rowan said, shaking her head in an attempt to get her hair out of her face. Once it was clear she wasn’t about to fall over, Jack let go of her and retrieved his staff from the ground.  
  
Rowan ran her hands over her hair in an attempt to fix it, finally taking a moment to examine her surroundings. Her eyes widened, breath caught in her throat.  
  
This was actually the  _North Goddamn Pole._  
  
She had read so many storybooks, watched so many Christmas specials. Hell, one of her history classes at school had an entire segment on Santa Claus and how illustrators and advertisements had essentially created his popular image.  
  
All the artistic representations she’d seen, however, paled in comparison to this. The sheer size of the establishment was the first thing that surprised her. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been in a building so large. Everywhere she turned, there seemed to be more and more of the building to see, and something told her that this wasn’t the only one.  
  
There were so many colors, so many toys and brightly wrapped gifts. There were lights, thousands upon thousands of lights, and several decorated Christmas trees scattered about the platforms they were standing on.   
  
And the yetis! The massive beasts were carting supplies and toys across the platforms. There were countless amounts of them, some of them stopping to glance her way before shuffling off to wherever they were headed.  
  
There were elves, though most were hiding around the immediate area, climbing atop each other to get a better look at this new arrival. The only sounds made were the jingling of the bells atop their outfits.  
  
But it was the massive globe in the center of everything that kept pulling her gaze back. The language she didn’t understand, the lights, the colors.  
  
She wanted to be more excited about this. She wanted to look around; she wanted to truly appreciate the fact that she was at the  _North Pole._  There wasn’t a single child who celebrated Christmas that didn’t want to be exactly where she was.  
  
And yet, her heart continued pounding against her ribcage and still she felt sick, her legs trembling slightly. She wasn’t here for fun, she was here to find out about something that wanted to basically consume her soul.  
  
“Any time you want to breathe,” Jack said, setting his hand back on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath. “I hear that’s sort of necessary for survival and all that.”  
  
“This is just… very overwhelming,” Rowan said.  
  
“Rowan Sawyer!” came North’s giant voice as the man emerged from his small workshop, closing the door behind him. Rowan’s jaw dropped as he approached her. He was nearly as tall as the yetis. “Is nice to finally meet you, my dear.”  
  
“Santa Claus,” was all she managed to say, staring up at the man in awe.  
  
“Call me North,” he said, taking one of her hands in his and firmly shaking it. His hands were huge, calloused. She barely had a moment to be amazed at them before getting distracted by the designs running up and down his arms.  
  
“N-Nice tattoos,” she said.  
  
“Thank you!” he said, rolling his sleeves up a bit further in order to show her the entirety of the designs. “One of the yetis does them for me.”  
  
“Really? He does excellent work,” Rowan said, furrowing her brow as she tried to imagine this man getting tattooed by an abominable snowman.  
  
“He has had many centuries to practice,” North laughed. “Thank you for coming at such short notice, Rowan. And do allow me to apologize for Jack.”  
  
“What did he do now?” Rowan said, glancing back at the spirit.  
  
“Yeah, what did I do?” Jack said, confused as well.  
  
“For the  _breaking and entering_. I  _told_  him to stop,” North said, raising a brow at the boy.  
  
“I already apologized for that,” Jack sighed.  
  
“He did, we’re even now, no worries,” Rowan said. It occurred to her suddenly that she was having a conversation with Jack Frost and Santa Claus.  
  
Was she absolutely  _certain_  she was not insane? This, of course, brought up the age-old question of whether the insane  _know_ they are insane or not.  
  
“Ah yes, we all heard about the tasing, very funny!” North said, laughing once more. His laugh was huge, deep, downright _jolly_. “But we have many serious matters to discuss! Come, to my workshop, the others are waiting there.”  
  
North turned to lead the way and Rowan immediately turned to Jack, eyes wide. “What is he, seven feet tall?!” she whispered to him as they walked.  
  
“More like seven-and-a-half I think,” Jack replied.  
  
“He can also hear very well, despite his age,” North said with a smirk, opening the door and holding it open for the two of them to walk through.  
  
The workshop was calm in comparison to the factory, and far quieter. Rowan imagined it would be nearly silent if it weren’t for the others inside.  
  
There was a large rabbit in the corner with strange patterns on his fur. A small man in a golden, sand suit floated in midair near a stern looking woman wearing a feathered dress. An eerie bald woman spoke with Tooth near the window. All eyes were on Rowan almost instantly as she and Jack entered the room.  
  
“You have met Tooth already,” North said, gesturing to the fairy, who smiled at Rowan and waved.  
  
“Hello! Nice to see you again, I wish the circumstances were better,” Tooth said warmly.  
  
“You too,” Rowan said, finding that now that they were actually going to  _discuss_  why she was here, her voice trembled as her legs did.  
  
“Over here is Bunny, the, well, Easter Bunny,” North said, gesturing to the Guardian in question.  
  
“Oh yeah, I’m the hardest one to figure out,” Bunny replied sarcastically with a roll of the eye. Rowan couldn’t help but smile slightly; at least someone continued to find humor in the situation. “E. Aster Bunnymund’s the name, but Bunny’s less of a mouthful.”  
  
“Bunny it is,” Rowan said.  
  
“Sandy,” North said, introducing the Sandman next. Rowan was surprised when sand silhouettes began to appear above the small man’s head.  
  
“What’s he doing?” Rowan whispered to Jack.  
  
“He says it’s nice to meet you and…” Jack sighed, rolled his eyes a little, “He thinks it’s funny that you tased me.”  
  
“Oh, well, thank you,” Rowan said, smiling nervously.  
  
“And these two lovely ladies are Calliope and Urania, the Muses of Epic Poetry and Astronomy, respectively,” North said.  
  
“Nice to officially meet you,” Calliope said.  
  
“Officially?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Oh she broke into your apartment, too,” Urania said. Calliope glared at the other Muse who simply shrugged. “It’s true.”  
  
“Seriously? Is there a rule somewhere that once you’re immortal, you don’t have to ask permission to enter someone’s home?” Rowan groaned.  
  
“I imagine vampires still have to,” Jack said.  
  
“Are vampires real?” she asked.  
  
“Why not, Santa Claus is,” he shrugged.  
  
“Oh good, something else to worry about.”  
  
“Speaking of worrying about things,” Tooth said. “What all did Jack tell you before you came here?”  
  
“Do you mean immediately before he brought me here or how much do I know about all of you in general?” Rowan asked. North brought her a chair and Rowan wondered if perhaps he noticed her legs shaking before taking a seat.  
  
“Immediately before you came here,” Bunny said.  
  
“Just that the Shadow People are after  _me_  and that you all would explain why,” Rowan said, glancing down at her hands in her lap. She needed to repaint her nails; the old polish was chipping.  
  
“What do you know about the Shadow People?” Tooth asked.  
  
“Not much, they’re kind of ghost things? And if they get too powerful they can eat your soul. They sound kinda like dementors,” she replied.  
  
“What’s a dementor?” Bunny asked.  
  
“It’s a Harry Potter thing,” Jack said. “And yeah, that’s pretty much what they’re like.”  
  
“I never pegged you as a big reader, Jack, or did you just watch the films?” Calliope asked.  
  
“Spend enough centuries alone and you end up pretty well-read. Getting into libraries isn’t hard when you’re invisible,” Jack said. “And neither is getting into theaters for midnight premiers. So, to answer your question, Harry-Potter-Elitist, I have read the books  _and_  seen the films.”  
  
“Can, um, can we get back to the Shadow People?” Rowan said, once more drawing the gaze of everyone else in the room. Being the focus of their eyes caused her legs to tremble further, and she gripped her knees as though hoping they’d stop. “I just… I just want to know what’s going on.”  
  
“The Shadow People used to work alone,” North said. “They simply made people paranoid, and the paranoia left their spirit slightly unguarded. They would feed on the spirit, never enough to cause long-term or permanent damage, and then move on.”  
  
“But not anymore?” Rowan asked.  
  
“They’ve kind of teamed up and realized that if they work together and do what they can to  _break_  someone’s spirit before consuming  _all_  of it, they’ll be even  _more_  powerful,” Jack said. “If they get  _exceptionally_ powerful, they might be able to feed on beings like us.”  
  
“And if they do that, they will simply take our powers for their own use and kill us in the process,” Urania said.  
  
“That’s awful, really, but what does it have to do with  _me?”_  Rowan asked. “How would  _my_  spirit be any more useful to them than anyone else’s?”  
  
“Because you’re the Mortal Muse,” Calliope said.  
  
“The Mortal  _What?”_  Rowan said, heart caught in her throat.  
  
“Every Muse starts as a Mortal Muse,” Urania explained. “Essentially a mortal woman in every way, except that they possess the power to inspire and manipulate thoughts and dreams.”  
  
“I don’t have any powers, you must have the wrong person,” Rowan said, shaking her head. She couldn’t be this Mortal Muse thing; it made absolutely no sense. Rowan was a regular, nothing special person. Suddenly she began to cling to this idea. Yes, yes, they had obviously made a mistake; the Shadow People were  _clearly_  after someone else.  
  
“The Mortal Muse rarely knows of her gifts,” Calliope said. “You  _do_ have these powers, but you can’t control them, it’s the nature of the Mortal Muse. To have such great power but no control or knowledge of it.”  
  
“So, what, I’ve been inspiring people without meaning to?” Rowan said.  
  
“Do you notice that creative people tend to flock to you?” Urania asked.  
  
“I go to art school,” Rowan said. “That’s kind of where a lot of them are.”  
  
“Do others get ideas for projects after talking to you, has anyone ever written poems or songs after speaking with you or meeting you?” Calliope said.  
  
“I… I mean, we all talk about our projects and bounce ideas off each other,” Rowan said, sounding more exhausted as the conversation continued. “And I don’t know, I mean, I had a lot of friends in local bands in high school, and my ex-boyfriend’s writing didn’t stop sucking until we started dating but these things being the result of some secret super powers?”  
  
“Some of them, definitely,” Urania said. “You  _are_  the Mortal Muse, Rowan, I could tell the moment you walked in.”  
  
“I can’t be this supernatural  _thing_  okay?” Rowan said. “I have plans for my life that don’t involve wearing fancy outfits and compelling people to write poetry for eternity.”  
  
“Mortal Muses do not automatically become Muses,” Calliope said. “It’s only happened nine times.”  
  
“It’s sort of a process,” Urania said hesitantly. “To become a full Muse, you must be a Mortal Muse. And you must die in an inspiring way.”  
  
“What do you mean ‘die in an inspiring way’?” Rowan said, giving away more of her panic in her voice than she had intended to. Jack approached her where she sat and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
She hated to admit it, but somehow it seemed to help. Her heart still raced, her legs still quaked, but she felt slightly less nauseous.  
  
“The sun picks the Muses,” Calliope said. “Once the Mortal Muse dies, he evaluates the death to see if it warrants immortality. Usually it’s when the Mortal Muse was young, and the death was tragic or unexpected.”  
  
“A tragic death is the surest way to immortality,” Bunny said.  
  
“What, like Marilyn Monroe? She dies mysteriously, before her time, and decades later you can still buy t-shirts with her face on it,” Rowan said.  
  
“Yes, just like that. John Lennon, Elvis Presley… Elizabeth Short, Bonnie and Clyde, they all gained immortality through death,” Urania said. “The difference is that  _we_  come back a year after our deaths if the Sun chooses us.”  
  
“I’m sorry but none of this is okay,” Rowan said, shaking her head. “I-I can’t do this shit! I can’t be this ‘Mortal Muse.’ I can’t worry about  _dying_  the right way- I can’t do any of this! It’s not how my life is supposed to work out.”  
  
“It’s not up to you,” Calliope said. Her stern nature had been tucked away but now was clear in her tone of voice, causing Rowan to lean back in her chair in surprise. “Do you suppose that I  _wanted_  immortality? Do you want to know how  _I_  came to be this way, Rowan?”  
  
Rowan was silent. Everyone was silent.  
  
“I committed suicide,” Calliope said, her voice cold. “I ran off that cliff, I spread my arms, and for a moment I was a bird. All I wanted was for that final flight and for it all to end, and a year later I was back. For a while, I was alone. So, I’m very sorry that being the Mortal Muse is messing with your life plan, but you are certainly not the first one.”  
  
The silence once she finished speaking was uncomfortable as could be; Sandy took Calliope’s hand in his and smiled up at her. Rowan watched the exchange in slight confusion, but in a way found it sweet. He seemed to be trying to comfort her, the memories of her suicide obviously not something often shared. Even with as few details as possible. It seemed to be working, as the Muse smiled back down at the Guardian.  
  
“There’s nothing saying you have to die,” Jack said at last, breaking the silence and glancing down at Rowan. “In fact, that’s what we’re trying to prevent.”  
  
“What does any of this have to do with the Shadow People?” Rowan asked.  
  
“The Mortal Muse is the only Muse whose powers are almost always entirely unprotected,” Urania said. “The Shadow People are looking for you because if they find you, they can steal your powers for their use. They can give people nightmares, mess with their minds, and break their spirits entirely. Once they harvest enough of those broken souls, they’ll be unspeakably powerful, powerful enough to steal the powers of full Muses easily.”  
  
“And after stealing the souls of enough children and destroying enough belief, they’ll be able to steal our powers, too,” Tooth said.  
  
“So, the Shadow People can control these powers that I apparently have,” Rowan said. “But  _I_  can’t.”  
  
“They are much more familiar with powers of this nature, they have had centuries of exposure to our world that you have not,” North explained.  
  
“And if they steal your powers, it’s not like when they harvest some regular person’s soul,” Jack said hesitantly. “You’ll die immediately.”  
  
“Well I’m just  _special_  aren’t I?” Rowan mumbled. “I just… I can’t! I’m not cut out for this!”  
  
“But you’re the Mortal Muse,” Bunny said.  
  
“You guys can say it as much as you want,” Rowan said, leaning forward in her seat. She kept her arms crossed before her, hand pressed to her stomach. She had hoped that learning more would ease her anxiety but she was certain she’d be sick soon. The more the others spoke, the more her stomach turned. “But I don’t really know what to do with this information, okay? I mean, it’s one thing to hang out with Jack Frost. It’s one thing to know that all of this- all of  _you_ \- actually exists… but I’m not cut out to be some kind of supernatural-being-in-training. I don’t know what to do with these Shadow People or their evil plot.”  
  
“That is where we come in, or rather, Jack,” North said, kneeling down so that he was nearly at eye-level with Rowan, who seemed to be avoiding looking directly at anyone. “For the time being, Jack is the only one with a weapon that has proven effective against the Shadow People. He will protect you.”  
  
“What, like a body guard?” Rowan winced.  
  
“Essentially,” North said.  
  
“I’ll be by every night when it gets dark,” said Jack. “To keep an eye on you and make sure they  _don’t_  kill you.”  
  
“At least until we can figure out an efficient way to eliminate the Shadow People as a threat,” Tooth said. “After Christmas we’re going to be testing more strategies as a team, but in the meantime, you’re in good hands.”  
  
“So I just go about my business like nothing happened?” Rowan said. That didn’t really seem possible.  
  
“Perhaps try not to leave home once it is dark,” North said. “But otherwise, we simply want to keep you safe.”  
  
“You mean, you want to keep my powers safe,” Rowan mumbled. North frowned.  
  
“Don’t worry, Rowan,” Calliope said. “Once we figure out how to get rid of the Shadow People, we no longer have to have you placed under protection and you can resume your life as painfully ordinary as it was before. A Mortal Muse hasn’t made the transition in centuries, I somehow doubt  _you_  will be an exception.”  
  
Rowan glanced up at Calliope at last, eyes slightly narrowed. The statement had been disguised as an attempt to comfort her, but the tone gave away a hint of cattiness.  _Painfully ordinary?_  
  
As if she hadn’t already been considering the possibility, now Rowan was beginning to be certain: she was not worthy of being a Muse, mortal or otherwise.  
  
How had she managed to get herself into this situation? Was it simply by being born? Why her? Why now? Her pulse simply would not slow. She felt about two feet tall.  
  
They all just kept  _staring_  at her.  
  
What was she even doing here? With these powerful creatures from myth and legend, with these being she had read about. She didn’t belong, and something told her that she never would.  
  
She had never felt like such an outsider.  
  
“Is there anything else I have to know or can I go home?” Rowan asked, eyes fixed on her kneecaps.  
  
“Just stay in the light, stick with Jack at night. The Shadow People haven’t figured out that  _you’re_  the Mortal Muse yet, so you should be fine. Just lie low,” Urania said, offering Rowan a reassuring smile once the girl finally glanced up.  
  
“We’ll be fine,” Jack said, squeezing her shoulder slightly.  
  
Rowan wanted to feel better about this, but the worry Jack had displayed earlier kept coming back to her mind. It seemed too simple to have him hang around more often and have her automatically safe from harm.  
  
“Tsar Lunar will keep an eye on you as well,” Urania said. “If he thinks you need the extra help he’ll send some moonbeams.”  
  
“So, try not to get into trouble during new moon,” North added.  
  
“Noted,” Rowan said.  
  
“We will get you another snow globe and send you on your way,” North said, heading for the door. “And we will be keeping in touch, Rowan. Hopefully we have good news for you next time.”  
  
Rowan slowly pulled herself back to her feet, unsteady. She looked back to the Muses, finding that Urania was still smiling gently at her, while Calliope’s gaze held more criticism. Rowan began to nervously braid at a few strands of her hair.  
  
“C’mon,” Jack said, walking with Rowan out the door that North had just disappeared through. They stopped just outside the room and Rowan leaned against the nearby wall, still fiddling with her hair.  
  
“Hey, at least that’s over,” he said, smiling nervously at her.  
  
“It’s just starting,” she groaned.  
  
Bunny emerged from the room and approached the pair. “Rowan,” he said.  
  
“Hm?” she said, glancing up at the rabbit. This was sort of uncomfortable; she had never encountered a  _rabbit_  taller than her.  
  
“You really are in good hands, I promise,” he said. “And if Jack gives you any trouble, well, just tase ‘im again. But this time, try to take pictures, yeah?”  
  
“I thought we were supposed to be friends, Bunny, why do you want to see harm come to me?” Jack said, feigning outrage.  
  
“We  _are_  mates,” Bunny said, playfully shoving the winter spirit, who smirked in response. “But you just have no idea how much amusement you being tased has brought me.”  
  
“I have a pretty good idea, actually,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.  
  
“I want to hear all about it next time,” Bunny said to Rowan. “And don’t worry about Calliope, hear me? She’s a bit of a stroppy bitch sometimes.”  
  
“Don’t let Sandy hear you say that,” Jack chuckled.  
  
“He knows she is,” Bunny shrugged. “She’s nice to  _him_. They go way back, he was the first immortal being she met, it’s all very sweet, I’m sure. But  _I_  don’t have to like her, she isn’t  _my_  girlfriend or lover or whatever they are.”  
  
“She is part of our alliance,” North said, reappearing with a snow globe in hand.  
  
“Doesn’t mean I have to like her,” Bunny said, shaking his head. North rolled his eyes and placed the snow globe into Jack’s hand.  
  
“At least try to be civil, Jack gets into enough arguments with the Muses to cover the rest of us,” North said.  
  
“I left the room before saying bad things about her,” Bunny pointed out.  
  
“The Muses started it,” Jack mumbled, tossing the snow globe in the air and catching it again.  
  
“Just take Rowan home and behave yourself, remember not to slack off during the day,” North said to Jack.  
  
“Don’t worry, there’ll still be plenty of blizzards and snow days,” Jack said. He turned to Rowan. “Ready go to?”  
  
“Been ready,” she sighed. Had the circumstances been different, perhaps she would have found Bunny’s comments amusing or teased Jack about their back and forth. It was still hard to wrap her mind around the whole thing, everything that had happened in the past  _hour._  
  
The portal opened up as Jack tossed it ahead and offered his hand to Rowan once more. She took it.  
  
“We’ll see you guys around,” Jack said before he and Rowan stepped into the portal.   
  
Rowan found herself back in her apartment, dark and silent, save for the bass of one of her neighbors listening to music much too loud. Once again, she nearly fell, and once again Jack steadied her. Once she was upright again, Jack stepped away to flip the light switch.  
  
Silently, Rowan approached her dresser and began opening a few drawers.  
  
“Hey, Rowan?” Jack said.  
  
“Hm?” she mumbled, pulling out her sweats and a much-too-large black band t-shirt. She shut the drawers and turned to face him.  
  
“You doing okay? I mean, I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said.  
  
“Honestly?” Rowan said. “I’m conflicted. Between puking and crying.”  
  
Jack winced, running his hand across the back of his head nervously. “Well, I mean-”  
  
“Jack, can we just… not talk? I’m just gonna take a shower and get ready for bed,” Rowan said, walking toward the bathroom. Not bothering to give the boy a chance to respond, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it. She gently set the clothes she planned on changing into on the counter before unbuttoning her coat and starting to pull it off.  
  
One by one, more articles of clothing fell to the floor, dropped by her shaking hands. Her mind was still racing, spinning around in circles as it recalled everything that had just happened.  
  
 _You can resume your life as painfully ordinary as it was before._  
  
Rowan pulled back her shower curtain, striped with various shades of purple, and turned the water on. She fiddled with the faucet knobs until the water was warm enough and climbed inside, closing the curtain behind her.  
  
Resume her life? As ordinary as it was before?  
  
They had tried consoling her. They had told her that everything was going to be all right, that she was in good hands and everything would turn out okay. They could act like nothing ever happened once it was all said and done.  
  
But that wasn’t going to happen. As the water beat down on Rowan’s head, she couldn’t help but think this. Her life was never going to be the same, it had all changed the very moment she came back to her apartment and found Jack Frost trying to sneak out her window.  
  
Rowan Sawyer’s life plan was anything but exciting. But she liked it that way. She knew exactly how things were supposed to go. She was supposed to finish school with honors, she was supposed to work a job she hated until she started making money with her artwork.  
  
She was supposed to fall in love some day, get married when the concept stopped scaring her and have some kids. She was supposed to grow old, still writing her stories. If everything worked out okay, she’d die peacefully in her sleep.  
  
She was supposed to write books for kids. She was supposed to  _tell_  stories about magical beings and unbelievable adventures, not be thrown in the middle of one. She was a person that wrote stories, not a person that had stories written about them.  
  
Now she was supposed to be a Mortal Muse? Rowan couldn’t help but wonder if any of her skills as an artist, skills she had spent years trying to improve, had anything to do with her or this Muse nonsense.  
  
How much of her life had been under her control? How much had been dictated by stars in the sky?  
  
How was she supposed to ever go back to the life she had before when she was now questioning everything about herself? When she was now wondering about how and when she would die, and what it would be like. She was a healthy twenty-year-old, she should  _not_  be thinking about the day she would die.  
  
And yet, she kept coming back to that. She had never felt more vulnerable, more  _mortal_  before. If a giant ball of gas in the sky decided she had died in the “right way,” she’d be granted immortality. The thought terrified her.  
  
It was the last thing she wanted. Living forever seemed like a great burden, and she had no idea how Jack managed.  
  
 _Jack._  
  
How long had he known that she was the Mortal Muse? Was Jamie a cover story? Was his interest in  _her_  stories a cover story? Had he been hanging around her this whole time because of what she was?  
  
Something about that notion especially stung. The idea that Jack had been visiting, not because he wanted to, but because he was on some official Guardian business, made Rowan’s heart sink.  
  
Was she just a chore?  
  
Finally giving in to her quaking knees, Rowan sank down into a fetal position, hugging her legs and burying her face into her knees.  
  
Death. Soul-eating monsters. Death. Body guards. Death.  _Painfully Ordinary_. Death. Uncontrollable power. Death. Nightmares. Death. Heart rate increasing.  _Death._  Inadequacy.   
  
The possibility of wandering the world for eternity, unable to bring her fear to its denouement and unable to live the life she wanted.   
  
Death.   
  
Death.   
  
 _Death._  
  
It was a free verse of panic.  
  
Rowan finally gave in and burst into hysteric tears, praying that the sound of the water, still beating down on her like her frightful thoughts, would drown out the noise. She didn’t want Jack to hear her cry or to know just the extend to which she was poorly handling this. She was terrified, absolutely terrified, of what all of this meant for her. She was scared of the possibilities, scared of what she had learned, scared of Calliope and her exclusive club of beautiful, inspiring, intimidating women.  
  
She was scared that her friendship with Jack wasn’t a friendship at all, that she was an obligation. Scared to think that this whole thing, this setup to protect her, was far more about her powers than her as a person. Scared that she had become a live pawn on some astrological chessboard. She was scared of the lack of control she had over her life, when hours ago she had everything figured out.   
  
She was scared for her life. She was scared for her mortality.  
  
“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this,” Rowan sobbed, her tears mixing with the water. When she moved to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, she left a streak of black from mascara and eyeliner.   
  
“I can’t…  _I can’t.”_


	18. Vultures

_“You have quite a few strong fears to choose from, don’t you? Let’s see, let’s start you off with a classic, shall we?  How do you feel about drowning?”_

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Vultures**

* * *

  
  
“What are we going to do about them?” Bunny asked North after Jack and Rowan disappeared through the portal. Today had consisted of far too many meetings and far too many discussions, but the over-grown rabbit felt that one last discussion was necessary.  
  
“What do you mean?” North said, confused. “We have already been over this, Jack is going to stand guard at her apartment and keep her safe from the Shadow People.”  
  
“That isn’t what I meant,” Bunny said, stepping aside as several elves ran by with a long string of Christmas lights. Bunny wasn’t sure what else they could be decorating, as the entire North Pole was already covered in tinsel and ornaments. “Did you see Jack in there with her? Touching her, the way he talked to her, holding her hand on the way out?”  
  
“He is obviously fond of her,” North said with a shrug. “And she was obviously frightened.”  
  
 _“Very_  fond of her,” Bunny said. “And we’ve stuck them alone together every night indefinitely. They’re  _teenagers.”_  
  
“Technically Jack is over three centuries old,” North said. “And Rowan is legally an adult. Are you fearful that they will begin some kind of relationship?”  
  
“It wouldn’t be the first time a Guardian has paired off with a Muse. Mortal or not,” Bunny said, raising a brow at North. “Aren’t _you_  worried? Jack  _isn’t listening_  to any of us, he’s going to get attached to this girl and you know what’s going to happen to her.”  
  
“She will die. One way or another,” North said, nodding along. “What is it you want to do about it, then?”  
  
“I think  _you_  need to tell him about Yelena, and then maybe he’ll rethink getting so close to her,” Bunny said seriously. “Tooth and I have  _both_  told him to speak with you, but again, he just  _doesn’t listen.”_  
  
“You want me to use Yelena as a cautionary tale?” North said, crossing his arms before his chest and returning the pooka’s gaze critically.  
  
“I wouldn’t have worded it that way, but yes, essentially,” Bunny said. As North stroked his beard in thought, Bunny began to worry that perhaps he had offended the man. The silence seemed to last forever.  
  
“I will tell Jack about Yelena the next time I see him,” North said reluctantly. “But Bunny,  _if_  he has feelings for her, and  _if_  she returns them… there is not much that can be done at that point.”  
  
“We just need to keep him from starting anything more than a friendship with her, you know it’s for his own good,” Bunny said.  
  
North hesitated for a moment before nodding once more. “It is.”

* * *

  
  
In three hundred years, Jack Frost had never had to deal with a crying girl. Sure, he’d seen plenty of children fall and burst into tears as they skinned their knees. In recent months, as he gained believers, he was even able to help a few back up and, with a bit of magic, send them off smiling again.  
  
But this was different,  _entirely_  different. He had no idea what he should do as he leaned against the wall dividing Rowan’s bathroom from the rest of her small studio apartment. Over the sound of the shower running were very clear hysterical sobs. He fidgeted in his spot for a moment, uncomfortable, before finally stepping away from the wall and taking a seat at the dining room table. He could still hear her crying, if faintly, from here.  
  
What was he supposed to do? His only instructions had been to protect Rowan from the Shadow People. Keep her safe from harm.  _Behave himself_.  
  
There had been no guidelines on how to handle the situation when the girl he was trusted to care for ducked into the bathroom to cry her eyes out. He’d never encountered Rowan  _sad_  before (not that he’d known her very long at all, it surprised him when he remembered it had only been a little over a week).   
  
She’d been angry with him, yes, that was how their whole friendship began. She’d been paranoid, suspicious, sure. Those were all things he could talk his way out of, things he was used to and could handle.  
  
But her sobbing, which she was doing a terrible job trying to hide, revealed nothing but defeat and sadness. What was Jack to do with that?  
  
He racked his memory for any time he might have encountered something like this. What do you do about a crying girl? Tooth came to mind, being perhaps his closest female friend, and he realized that she had never actually shown much vulnerability in the time he’d known her. She was always strong, and while she had shown doubt when her mini fairies had been taken from her, had quickly regained her poise.   
  
He frowned. If Tooth were there, she’d know what to do. She had that sort of maternal instinct, had a way of soothing a worried mind with the right words.   
  
Well, as long as those words weren’t “blood and gums.”  
  
Melpomene slithered her way back into his memory.   
  
 _“Oh, Jack, I know how you’ve suffered…”_    
  
He made a face. In the time he had spent with the Muse, she had never shown anything genuine, and definitely hadn’t shed an honest tear.  
  
Then there was his sister. Much like the other children he’d encountered, she’d had her fair share of tumbles and tears. Most of the time he could get her to calm down by making her laugh. Jokes didn’t seem appropriate now, not at all.   
  
He was quickly realizing that he could not use his (admittedly few) past encounters with women as a starting point for this. Rowan wasn’t much like them, aside from being some form of a Muse. She was so  _cautious_ , so analytical. Taking that into consideration, it wasn’t surprising that she was scared. She was probably going over every possible way this situation could play out, and the tragic endings would always scream the loudest in a frightened mind.  
  
The running of the water stopped and Jack rose to his feet, watching the door. He could hear some shuffling around from within the bathroom and the sound of Rowan blowing her nose after all the crying she’d just done. It wasn’t very long before she opened the door with her hair damp, wearing the sweats and large shirt that served as her pajamas. She dropped the clothes she had changed out of into a hamper in the corner and rubbed at her eyes, finally glancing back at Jack.  
  
Her eyes were bloodshot and sad, circled with faded, smeared remains of eyeliner that had stubbornly remained despite soap and tears. Concern barely had a chance to cross Jack’s features before Rowan glanced away, as though embarrassed.  
  
Jack took no more than a second to consider his next move before closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms. Rowan grew stiff for a moment, taken by surprise, before slowly sliding her arms around him in return.  
  
“I know you’re scared,” Jack said. “But you’re not in this alone, okay? I’m going to be here with you.”  
  
He felt Rowan’s arms shift so that she could reach for and dab at her eyes. “Thank you,” she mumbled, voice shaking slightly..  
  
“No problem,” he said, arms still securely around her.  
  
After a moment of hesitation, Rowan spoke again. “Jack?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“I know this is supposed to be a really tender moment and everything,” she said, “but I’m pretty sure you just froze my hair.”   
  
Jack winced and let go of the girl, taking a step back to see for himself. Sure enough, her damp hair was now coated in ice and glistening in the lights around the apartment.  
  
“I’m really sorry,” he said sheepishly, reaching forward to touch one of the frozen locks. There wasn’t much that he could do to _un_ freeze her hair. He must have frozen it accidentally in his hasty decision to hug her. “That, uh, wasn’t supposed to happen.”  
  
“I guess I’m gonna have to start blow drying my hair if you’re going to be around every night, huh?” Rowan sighed, lightly touching the jagged edges of her hair before walking over to the bathroom and fishing a hair dryer out from the cupboard beneath the sink.  
  
“So, you don’t usually dry your hair,” Jack said, walking over and leaning against the door frame.  
  
“No, I damaged my hair enough in high school,” Rowan said, plugging the device into the wall and switching it on.  
  
“Then why do you  _own_  a hair dryer?” he asked loudly in order to be heard over the sound.  
  
“To dry acrylic paintings faster,” she responded as though it were obvious, watching as the frost on her hair began to melt. Once her hair was no longer stiff, she leaned over to better attempt to dry it.  
  
“Right, of course, I mean, why  _else_  would someone have one?” Jack tilted his head to get a better look at the tattoo on the back of her neck, now that her hair was flipped over and he could properly see it. “Once Upon A Time,” in an elegant script font, the very tattoo that Lorelei Bennett had been upset to discover.  
  
“Don’t you have  _three_  tattoos?” he asked after a moment, remembering her stating as much at one point. He couldn’t remember if it was to him or to Lorelei while he was eavesdropping.  
  
“Yeah, why?” Rowan asked, standing upright once more and flipping her hair back before continuing her attempts to dry it.  
  
“I’ve only seen two,” he said. “The one on your wrist and the one on your neck.”  
  
“The last one’s usually always covered,” Rowan explained, finally turning the hair dryer off.  
  
“Is it in a naughty place?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Little-Miss-Nice-List?”  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes, but smiled. Jack was pleased to see that he had gotten her to smile, at least a little. Maybe he could fit a  _few_  jokes in, despite the dire situation. “What, like on my ass? No, it’s not.”  
  
She grabbed at the hem of her shirt and lifted it up, holding it just below her bust to show Jack the right side of her ribcage. The design featured a large feather quill and a trail of ink that twirled out into other designs, many of which were flowers. There was one design, though, that caught his eye.  
  
“I like the snowflake,” he said, eyes still fixed on the tattoo.  
  
“Yeah, well, I got it before I met you so don’t go getting a big head about it,” she said, rolling her eyes yet again.  
  
“Still, it means you like my work,” he grinned. His eyes wandered along the tattoo and he couldn’t help but notice the curves of her hip and how nicely the lines of the tattoo wrapped around her form.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, so maybe winter is my favorite season, I always seem to come up with good stories around this time,” she said, pulling her shirt back down.  
  
“Does this make me a Muse to a Muse?” he teased.  
  
“I’m not a Muse,” Rowan said, walking back into the main room. She flipped a few switches, leaving only the lamp by her bed and the other one near the bookshelf on. “Not really.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re a lot nicer,” Jack said, walking with her. She climbed atop her bed and rubbed at her eyes again. “And you tased me when we first met so that’s saying something.”  
  
Rowan smiled. “Well I’m glad you don’t hate me by association.”  
  
“Never,” he said.  
  
“How long have you known?” she asked quickly, looking anywhere but Jack. She seemed nervous again.  
  
“Known what? That you’re the Mortal Muse?” Jack said. She nodded. “Last night, when Calliope came by to see if it was you.”  
  
“So… you weren’t hanging around before that because of it,” she said hesitantly.  
  
“No, I just wanted to know what happened in your stories, I didn’t know anything really about the Mortal Muse until a few days ago. Why?”  
  
“Just… it’s nothing, I was just curious,” she said, looking back up at him at last. “How’s this going to work, then? Are you just gonna stand there and watch me sleep or…?”  
  
Jack furrowed his brow and glanced at her bed, realizing that he had simply assumed the arrangement would be the same as the previous night, when he had accidentally fallen asleep atop her covers. Now that it was brought into question, he realized that was unlikely.  
  
Sharing her bed the previous night had happened only because he happened to be there when he fell asleep. It wasn’t as though Rowan had invited him to curl up with her pillows, and had she not fallen asleep before he had, he was certain she would have disapproved. She’d already gotten on his case for creepy behavior in the past and he was fairly certain sharing a bed with someone you were not in a relationship with qualified as “creepy behavior.”  
  
He had no creepy intentions, of course. The bed was simply comfortable, and smelled nice. Not to mention, it would be very easy to keep an eye on Rowan if she were less than a foot away the whole night. But he doubted it would go over well if he were to ask to repeat this arrangement again. He felt creepy just thinking about it, honestly.  
  
Beds were supposed to be warm and cozy. He had just accidentally turned her hair into icicles.  
  
“I, um,” Jack said. He glanced around, eyes falling on the futon a few feet away. “I’ll just hang out over here.”  
  
He walked over to the couch and gracefully sat upon it, glancing at the bookshelf beside it and scanning the titles. “I’ll probably just busy myself with your collection here if that’s okay.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” Rowan said, pushing her hair back before climbing beneath her blankets.  
  
 _“Catch-22_  should do it,” he said, pulling the beat up paperback from the shelf.  
  
“Good choice,” Rowan smiled softly.  
  
“And if anything happens, I’ll, you know, leap into action,” Jack said with a shrug.  
  
“Right,” she mumbled. Jack watched as she laid down, setting her head on her pillow and adjusting the blankets. “Goodnight, Jack.”  
  
“Night, Rowan,” he said, fiddling with the book in his hand. He leaned back with his staff in his lap and finally opened to the first page of chapter one. However, he didn’t read a word of Yossarian’s mischief, not yet. He kept a close eye on Rowan until finally her breathing became steady and her eyes closed. He half-smiled when a pirate ship, crafted from golden dream sand, appeared above her head.  
  
“Thanks for helping out, Sandy,” Jack said before finally focusing on the book in his hands.

* * *

  
  
What good was a king without a throne?  
  
Pitch sat on an elaborately designed chair in his realm, seeming more relaxed than he had been in months as he leaned back with one hand propping up his chin and the other resting in his lap. He watched the lights on the globe dim and re-illuminate lazily.  
  
“Melpomene, not trying to sneak up on me, are you?” he said suddenly, eyes still fixed on the globe, still seated. The tall, slim woman materialized from thin air before him, the skeletal tragedy mask fixed to her face until she removed it gracefully.  
  
“You’re not any fun,” she said, settling herself on one of the arms of his chair, her legs draped over his lap.  
  
“I do believe you’ve already had encounters with  _that_ spirit,” Pitch pointed out, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of her skirt, still watching the globe.  
  
“Yes, well, Jack wasn’t much fun back then either,” Melpomene said, watching the Nightmare King closely. She reached forward and ran her finger down the side of his face. His cheeks were not as hollow as they had been the last time she had seen him. His eyes seemed strangely brighter. “You’ve got more life in you today, Pitch.”  
  
He simply smiled. “I know.”  
  
“What’s happened?” she asked, confused.  
  
“You tell me,” he said, glancing back up at her at last. “The Mortal Muse has been located, hasn’t she?”  
  
“She has, is she the one that’s done this to you?” Melpomene asked, brows furrowed.  
  
“The Mortal Muse is cursed with a vivid imagination, her fear is worth at least ten frightened children,” Pitch said, the cynical smile still on his face. “Who is it?”  
  
“Her name is Rowan Sawyer, some girl from Pennsylvania,” Melpomene said, combing her fingers through her dark hair casually. “Placed under the personal protection of Jack Frost for an indefinite amount of time.”  
  
“They honestly have no idea what else to do, do they?” Pitch said, shaking his head. “They haven’t figured out why his staff works against them?”  
  
“They haven’t, and the clock is ticking to get in on the alliance. To cut a deal for the information that will stop the Shadow People,” said the Muse, still playing with her hair, her mask abandoned in her lap.  
  
“Why do I need to get in on the alliance when her fear is building me back up?” Pitch asked. “Jack Frost can’t fix this with a snowball fight. Eventually even her own frightened mind will conjure up nightmares without my assistance and that will only make the fear, as well as myself,  _stronger.”_  
  
“But not strong enough,” Melpomene said, sliding herself into Pitch’s lap and leaning her head against his shoulder so that she might speak directly into his ear. Her tone was hoarse as usual, and hushed. “Pitch, what is it the Shadow People want with the Mortal Muse?”  
  
Pitch sighed, knowing that this could not end well. “Her powers to inspire.”  
  
“And what do they intend to do with this power?” she said, lightly running her fingers down the side of his neck.  
  
“To inspire fear. Cause Nightmares. Break spirits,” Pitch replied.  
  
“Exactly. And what’s stopping them from skipping over here and just stealing  _your_  ability to do that? Some unspoken respect for the fallen Nightmare King? Whose coat tails they’ve been riding and whose plan they’ve adapted without second thought? You are weak enough to be fed upon, even with her fear helping you out. Think about it, Pitch… who needs the Boogie Man when you’ve got Shadow People running about? They’ll render you useless, more so than your current state. They’ll snatch your powers away and kill you in the process.”  
  
“Stop it,” Pitch said, turning his head to face her. She leaned away, watching him innocently as she began to fiddle with her mask. “Stop hissing in my ear as though these thoughts are my own.”  
  
“You know it’s all true, Pitch,” Melpomene said. “You need Rowan Sawyer alive and well just as much as we do. As long as she remains a target, you are not, and her fear is speeding up your recovery.”  
  
“I can do nothing to stop the Shadow People, you are well aware of this,” Pitch said, rolling his eyes slightly as the Muse leaned up against him again, tracing abstract shapes into his chest with her fingertips.  
  
“But you  _know how_ , and the Guardians need that information,” Melpomene said. “Simply make a deal that they will protect you as well. Once on the right side of the alliance you should be able to secretly give Rowan more nightmares easily. Focus on your recovery.”  
  
“They’ll never agree to work with me!” Pitch laughed.  
  
“You just need one,” Melpomene said, holding up her index finger, “To convince the others. Toothiana is already on the fence about it, even Sanderson is. They’ll side with whoever insists we seek your help.”  
  
“And I suppose you’re assuming Jack Frost will be the swing vote,” Pitch said skeptically.  
  
“It certainly won’t be Nicholas or Bunnymund,” she replied. “And I’m not saying it would be easy to convince Jack, but, I’m sure you could come up with something with some, ah,  _help.”_  
  
Melpomene closed the small distance between the two of them, pressing her lips against his. Ever so gently, she cupped his head in her hands as her lips moved against his. Tongues traced lips, mouths opened and closed. Melpomene’s kisses were always reminiscent of the passionate farewells of lovers in tragic tales. There was a certain desperation, longing.   
  
The kiss was not due to any feelings she had for Pitch, however. No, Pitch was well aware of what she was doing, and it was working. His mind raced, and he opened his eyes suddenly, pulling away as one particular thought fell into his head.  
  
He stood from the throne, walking to the globe and keeping a close eye on North America. Melpomene remained where she sat, smirking as she watched him and lazily tossing her legs across the arm of the chair.  
  
“Got an idea, have we?” she said with a slight laugh.  
  
 _“Sudden inspiration,”_  Pitch replied, casting her a glance before returning his attention to the globe. “How does Jack Frost feel about this Rowan Sawyer?”  
  
“He cares very much for her, you could tell he was worried at the meeting,” Melpomene said with a roll of the eye.  
  
“It’s so excruciatingly easy!” Pitch laughed, turning back to Melpomene. “Jack’s staff alone won’t save her, I just have to make sure he knows that.”  
  
“What do you plan on doing?”  
  
“I’m the Boogie Man,” said Pitch. “I’m going to scare her. I’m going to scare  _him_. What greater tragedy is there than to grow close to someone, only to have them taken away from you? I need to make Jack so scared for her that he’s willing to work with  _me_  in order to keep her safe.”  
  
“How do you intend to do that?” Melpomene asked, eyebrow raised. “What with Jack guarding her and everything?”  
  
“I’m the Boogie Man,” Pitch said again, taking a few steps back and disappearing into the shadows. “How do you think?”  
  
“Pitch?” Melpomene asked, glancing around for the man. She was met only with silence, for Pitch was already on the move, venturing into the world above his lair for the first time in months. He was cautious and quick as he moved, knowing full well that the Shadow People used the shadows and other dark places to hide as he did.  
  
It was becoming more and more apparent, the threat they posed to him as well. He attempted not to think of it as he crept his way into the apartment complex in the small college town, silently following the fear to its source on the third floor. He traveled within the shadows, squeezing beneath doors until he found himself inside the dimly lit apartment. He emerged from the shadows, standing tall and in the open only when it was clear that Jack was in no state to attack.  
  
The boy had fallen asleep on the couch, a paperback propped open on his chest as he slumbered. Pitch smirked at the sight, finding that the Guardians had picked just an  _excellent_  guard for their prized mortal.  
  
The mortal in question was currently sleeping in the bed, glowing dream sand forming shapes above her head. Pitch watched the girl for a moment and smiled.  
  
“Ah yes,” he whispered softly to himself. “You have quite a few strong fears to choose from, don’t you? Let’s see, let’s start you off with a classic, shall we? How do you feel about drowning?”  
  
Lightly, Pitch touched the glistening dream sand and smiled as it turned black, and Rowan winced. She fidgeted as she slept and held her breath. Knowing that the need to breathe would wake her up soon enough, Pitch quickly disappeared into the shadows and slid beneath her bed, lingering near some rejected sketchbooks and loose change that had fallen.  
  
He listened carefully as the girl groaned in her sleep and continued to toss and turn.

* * *

  
  
Rowan sat upright, bloodshot eyes shooting open and gasping for air. She gripped at her blankets with one hand while pushing sweat-soaked bangs out of her face with the other, still breathing heavily.  
  
“It was just a dream,” she told herself, wiping at the tears that had once again begun to form at her eyes. Her pulse was quick and showed no signs of slowing down. She pulled her knees close to her chest and slid her arms around them, continuing with her hasty breaths in an attempt to calm down.  
  
“Rowan, you okay?” came Jack’s tired voice from the couch. She glanced up in time to see him sit upright and set the book down on the coffee table. Effortlessly, he flew over to her bed, floating above her with a yawn.  
  
“It’s nothing,” she said, wincing once she heard how hoarse her voice was.  
  
“Then why are you so freaked out?” Jack asked, settling himself in a seated position beside her.  
  
“It was just a bad dream, I’m… I’m fine,” Rowan said, rubbing at one of her eyes again.  
  
“You must have really worked yourself up, Sandy was sending you dreams to try and ease your mind,” Jack said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. “It shouldn’t have ended so badly, especially with Pitch in hiding…”  
  
“I think I’m just… stressed out. I used to get dreams like this a lot when I was younger,” Rowan said, wiping at her eyes again, trying desperately not to cry.  
  
“What happened?”  
  
“This is all so silly,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.  
  
“How is it silly?”  
  
“I’m twenty, I shouldn’t be ready to cry over a nightmare, I shouldn’t be waking you up in the middle of the night because I had one.”  
  
“A lot’s been happening, I’m not gonna think any less of you because you’re scared,” Jack said, moving his hand in favor of sliding his arm around her shoulder instead. “So what happened in the dream?”  
  
Rowan hesitated before shifting slightly so that she could place her head on his shoulder, which seemed to briefly take the winter spirit by surprise. He recovered quickly, however, propping his staff against the bedside table and flicking her bangs away from her face with his now-free hand.  
  
“It started off basically playing off of what I have planned for the next part of my story, with Jack and Miss Gates speaking to the other witch to find out where to start looking for their treasures. I guess that’s the part the Sandman was behind. They were getting ready to steal this ship and… suddenly  _I_  was Miss Gates, I guess, instead of an observer, and I fell overboard. Everything was suddenly dark, and I tried to swim to the surface but I didn’t know if I was even swimming in the right direction.”  
  
She took another deep breath, watching as the air in front of her fogged from being so close to Jack. “It felt like I was going in circles. Nothing I did was helping, my lungs felt like they were on fire, all I could do was panic.”  
  
“Today was rough, and you think  _way_  too much, it’s no wonder you’re having a hard time while you sleep, too,” Jack said, lightly running his hand over her hair. Rowan was relieved to find that he was not freezing it in the process. “It’s going to be fine, though, it was just a dream.”  
  
“Better to think too much than not enough,” Rowan sighed, closing her tired eyes. She could feel the cold through his jacket, but it soothed the headache she had from all the sobbing she’d done. In fact, any discomfort she anticipated from his lack of body heat was nearly non-existent. “Drowning dreams are supposed to mean you’re overwhelmed by something, and that seems pretty accurate.”  
  
“Yeah? What do pirates mean?” Jack asked.  
  
“Wanting to take risks and have adventures, I think,” she yawned. Jack smirked.  
  
“Sounds about right. You stress yourself out too much to take risks,” he teased.  
  
“I can’t help it,” she mumbled. “It’s not like it’s irrational stress.”  
  
“It’s not,” he agreed. “But I just don’t want you to make it out to be worse than it is. Worrying yourself into having nightmares isn’t going to help anything.”  
  
“I don’t know what else to do. I can’t do anything to defend myself,” Rowan mumbled, eyes still closed. Her pulse seemed to finally have returned to normal. Now she was just exhausted.  
  
“But I can,” he assured her. “You doing all right now?”  
  
“I think so,” she said.  
  
“So, uh, should I leave you alone and go back to the couch, or…?” Jack said hesitantly.  
  
Rowan shifted slightly where she was, still leaning against him, neglecting to answer his question for a moment. She still worried that she was now a chore for him, his presence at her apartment an obligation. But she liked having him where he was, with his arm around her.  
  
For the first time since she learned what was happening, she felt safe.  
  
She slid her arm around his waist and lightly shook her head. “Can you stay here?” she breathed.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
She nodded.  
  
“Are you sure you’re not half asleep and talking nonsense? Rowan?”  
  
Rowan did not respond, however, already sleeping again. Jack sighed and shifted, as though considering trying to pry himself away, as though when Rowan awoke she’d change her mind. Finally, he simply leaned back and got himself comfortable, arm still around her shoulders.  
  
“This is a slippery slope, Frost,” he muttered to himself, resting his head against hers. “Never gonna hear the end of it from Bunny.”


	19. Just Friends

_At least there were handbooks, pamphlets and medical professionals that knew how to deal with that and make those demons go away.  This was far more complicated, far more mysterious._

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Just Friends**

* * *

  
  
The studio had a cork board lining one of the walls, covered in final projects that had been meticulously pinned and re-pinned until they were level. There was a generous amount of space around the more impressive pieces, no one wishing to be directly compared to such talent.  
  
Final critique was already underway, with chairs dragged and arranged to be closer to the pieces. Every now and again, someone would stand up, approach the piece, and examine it more closely before returning to their seat to make their comment.  
  
Rowan sat in her chair, one leg folded beneath her and glancing off toward the window every now and again. It was snowing fairly heavily. Not enough for a snow day, though, definitely not during finals.  
  
 _“I really enjoy how you’ve saturated the focal point more than everything else. And how you’ve made this a sort of radial composition, it really brings your eye in.”_  
  
They were only an hour into class, the critique only started a half hour earlier. It was going to be a painfully long day, Rowan could already tell as she began tugging some small strands of hair into a braid. One strand over the other, over the other, over the other.  
  
 _“The perspective is confusing me right here, it seems like this isn’t going to the same vanishing point as everything else, and the shading is inconsistent over here. I feel like you probably did that part last and rushed?”_  
  
Physically she was in the room, physically she was present for the critique, but everyone’s comments sounded as though they were coming from somewhere far, far away. It was as though cotton had been stuffed into her ears.  
  
Sunset was at about 4:30, she’d looked it up earlier. For the time being she was safe, for the time being she needed no outside protection in the form of Jack Frost. For the time being he’d be somewhere else entirely and she could pretend that nothing supernatural was happening.  
  
Shadow People weren’t trying to find her and eat her soul. Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy didn’t exist. She wasn’t a Mortal Muse, with powers that she had no way to access or control. Her mortality didn’t rely on how she happened to die. There weren’t any immediate threats to her life. She hadn’t seen some kind of shadow dart out from beneath her bed before she left for school.  
  
She hadn’t woken up that morning in Jack Frost’s arms.  
  
She hadn’t taken a few minutes to lie there and enjoy being where she was. She hadn’t taken note that he smelled like Christmas trees. Real, pine, Christmas trees, not the synthetic one her parents had. She hadn’t carefully pried herself away and disabled the alarm that had yet to go off in order to avoid waking the boy again.  
  
She hadn’t made him  _coffee_  before he left as the sun finally rose.  
  
She didn’t miss him now, certainly not.  
  
Rowan sighed. If only any of that were true, if only she believed any of it. The fact that her life was being threatened kept darting to the front of her thoughts, no matter how much she tried shoving it away.   
  
Brushing her teeth this morning? Something’s trying to kill you. Unlocking her car? Don’t forget to run the defrost, also, something’s trying to kill you. Pinning her piece to the stupid cork board? Hey, Rowan, something’s trying to kill you.  
  
When she wasn’t thinking about the Shadow People, she was thinking about Jack, which only served to confuse her. Why did she care so much that he wasn’t visiting because he wanted to, but because he had to now? When he had already admitted to being there by choice before? She was so concerned about not being an obligation to a boy she had met when he  _broke into her apartment_. It made no sense.  
  
Why did she just want to sit with him? Lean against his shoulder, smell the pine and listen to another war story?  
  
“Rowan. Rowan? Rowan!”  
  
“Hey, Sawyer,” Shirley said, jabbing Rowan in the side with her elbow. Rowan jumped in surprise and finally noticed the others in the class watching her curiously, the professor raising a brow at her.  
  
“How long has she been trying to talk to me?” Rowan whispered to Shirley, referring to their professor.  
  
“A while now,” Shirley replied.  
  
“Welcome back, Rowan,” said their professor. “Don’t forget participation is part of your final grade. Now, why don’t you tell us about  _your_  piece?”  
  
“Right, right,” Rowan said, straightening in her seat before beginning to speak about her drawing on the wall.  
  
While she spoke, however, she couldn’t help but remember yet again,  _something was trying to kill her._

* * *

  
  
  
Inches of snow had fallen in Burgess at the crack of dawn without warning. Grumbling citizens fumbled with shovels and snow blowers in desperate attempts to clear their driveways and surrounding sidewalks. Lorelei Bennett had turned the television to the news while sipping her morning coffee; Jamie had been closely examining a treasure map illustrated on the back of his cereal box.  
  
This was when the news anchor began the only news segment that a child of Jamie’s age would care about: School Closures. It seemed that the entire county had chosen to shut down public schools for the day due to hazardous driving conditions. After being forced to finish his breakfast and reminded to brush his teeth by Lorelei, Jamie pulled on his coat and hat before rushing outside.  
  
He hadn’t been surprised to find his friends gathered in the clearing where Jack had created their sledding course. The ramps were now covered in snow but still functional. After inquiring if any of his friends had seen Jack, they stated that they hadn’t, leaving Jamie with a frown.  
  
Jack had to have been behind the snow day, so why wasn’t he there? He hadn’t been around much lately, not since it was revealed that Rowan could see him. Jamie had half a mind to call his cousin and demand his friend back, or perhaps send Jack a strongly-worded letter.  
  
With some prodding from the other children, however, Jamie disregarded those thoughts and began sledding through the course with the others, laughing the whole way. The group had begun climbing back up to the start of the course when each of them was suddenly pelted with a snowball. It only took seconds to locate the cackling winter spirit, hovering near the top of the hill.  
  
An epic snowball fight resulted with sleds and other children used as shields. It was only when Pippa and Monty surrendered, coated in snow from the others, that the fight finally came to an end. Claude and Caleb immediately went back to sledding while the others took a moment either brush the snow off themselves or attempt to make snow angels.  
  
“Thanks for the snow day, Jack!” Pippa said, pulling off her hat in order to remove the clumps of snow that had refused to let go.  
  
“Yeah, Jack, thank you!” Cupcake added.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Jack said with a shrug. “Figured you guys were over-due.”  
  
“Where were you earlier? Usually you stick around after causing a storm,” Jamie asked, taking a seat on his sled.  
  
“Spreading more blizzards, I’ve got to cover the whole northern hemisphere this time of year, you know,” Jack said. “Finished early, so I came back.”  
  
“Finished  _early?_ ” Jamie laughed. “Since when do you have a schedule?”  
  
“I, uh, I’ve got a new job for the Guardians that I need to do during the nights now, so I’m taking care of the blizzards and snow days during the day now,” Jack said hesitantly.   
  
“What kind of job?” Monty asked, desperately trying to use his mittens to clean the smudges from his glasses.  
  
“Pitch isn’t up to something again, is he?” Jamie asked. Claude and Caleb, who had just climbed the hill again, paused to listen rather than tumble down the course once more.  
  
“No! No, he’s still in hiding,” Jack said immediately, shaking his head. “It’s nothing you guys have to worry about, really.”  
  
“So your new job is like how our dad works graveyard shift?” Caleb asked.  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“How come you haven’t come by during the day in a while, then? It’s snowed but you haven’t visited,” Cupcake pointed out.  
  
“He’s probably visiting my cousin,” Jamie said, casting Jack an accusatory glance. Jack opened his mouth to respond, but soon closed it, and smiled sheepishly. Pippa and Cupcake cast each other a look before breaking out into giggles.  
  
“Jack and Rowan, sitting in a tree!” the girls sang immediately.  _“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”_  
  
Jamie frowned, the other boys gagged as the girls continued to giggle and taunt. Jack rolled his eyes, “Rowan and I are friends. I visit her, well, um,  _sometimes_. There’s no sitting in trees or anything else from that song.”  
  
 _“First comes love, then comes marriage-”_  
  
Jack seemed to grow even paler, if possible, from even the joking mention of marriage. “Really, guys, just friends.”  
  
“So you don’t think she’s pretty?” Pippa asked.  
  
“You don’t  _want_  to kiss her?” Cupcake added. Again, the boys gagged.  
  
“I plead the fifth,” Jack said, twirling his staff about in his hands. Jamie watched the spirit curiously, finding that he seemed to be deep in thought about something.  
  
“… you’re not  _thinking_  about kissing my cousin now, are you?” Jamie said, making a face.  
  
“Don’t look so disgusted at the idea, she isn’t  _my_  cousin,” Jack said. “And again, I plead the fifth.”  
  
Pippa leaned over to whisper something into Cupcake’s ear and both girls immediately began giggling again, glancing at Jack who watched them with a cocked brow.   
  
“Why would Jack spend all his time  _kissing girls_  when he could be flying around doing super cool winter stuff?” Claude asked, spreading his arms and running about as though to demonstrate flying.  
  
“He makes a fair point,” Jack shrugged.  
  
“Uh, because Jack’s not still afraid of cooties like  _some_  boys,” Pippa said.  
  
“Cooties are real!” Monty said immediately, adjusting his glasses. “My mom said so!”  
  
“Your mom also doesn’t want you using the school drinking fountains,” Jamie pointed out.  _“Or_  using doorknobs with your bare hands.”  
  
Jack kneeled down to scoop snow into his hands, the children still distracted, before he stood upright. “This conversation is boring,” he said, feigning a yawn before pelting Jamie’s head with the snowball.   
  
“Oh no,” Monty said, rushing behind Pippa to use her as a shield as Jamie grinned and the others quickly began forming their own snowballs for yet another fight.

* * *

  
  
  
“Mel?”  
  
Melpomene didn’t bother glancing up. She leaned against the railing of an old and abandoned bridge, covered in snow. The river that ran beneath the bridge, the river that held her gaze, was completely frozen.  
  
“What do you want, ’Lia?” Melpomene grumbled. Thalia approached the other Muse, pulling herself atop the railing to sit. The moonbeam that had been following Thalia closely hovered nearby beside the one that had been assigned to Melpomene.  
  
“I just want to talk to you about this Pitch Black business,” Thalia said, fiddling with the ribbons on her mask.  
  
“If you’re about to tell me to stop spending time with him-” Melpomene started.  
  
“Oh like you’ll listen to me when it comes to that anyway,” Thalia said, waving away Melpomene’s comment. The dark-haired woman continued staring at the frozen water, rather than the younger Muse seated on the railing.  
  
“Do I ever listen to you about  _anything_ , ’Lia?” Melpomene pointed out.  
  
“You listened to me when I told you that we should go hang out with Will, we were his favorite Muses, remember?” Thalia said, nudging Melpomene’s shoulder playfully.  
  
“Calliope still insists that  _she_  was,” Melpomene rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, so was a big fan of meter and rhyme, it was still  _us_  that brought people to the playhouse,” Thalia said, her expression smug. “And we found him first, Calli came by later.”  
  
“I cannot argue with something so  _painfully_  true,” Melpomene said. “And fine, fine,  _you_  were the one who insisted we lend a hand to that writer.”  
  
“Precisely, I’m not  _entirely_  good-for-nothing,” Thalia smirked. “So, about Pitch.”  
  
“What is it?” Melpomene sighed, rolling her eyes slightly.  
  
“I just don’t want you getting yourself into trouble over him, Mel. I mean, I know that’s your thing and you can’t really  _help_  it but maybe try not to push it so much the next time we have a meeting with the Guardians? It’s just pissing them off,” Thalia said. She paused, then added, “Not that it’s not hilarious to see Bunnymund yell at you, because it is. It’s funny when he gets mad in general because he’s just so big and fluffy and cute.”  
  
“You  _know_  we need his help,” Melpomene said, still not looking away from the river.  
  
Thalia was silent for a moment before nodding slowly, though she knew Melpomene couldn’t see her do this. “We do. But I also understand why the Guardians are hesitant and holding grudges. I just don’t want you to get yourself a bad deal by  _insisting_ every five minutes they kiss and make up.”  
  
“I’m not asking them to be friends, just to cut a deal,” Melpomene said. “And it’s not as if the Guardians can just decide not to protect me because I side with Pitch, I’m still a Muse.”  
  
“I’m just worried that you’ll push Calliope over the edge. You know how torn apart she was when it looked like Pitch killed Sandy a few months back.”  
  
“She can’t kick me out of the alliance,” Melpomene said. “The conditions that  _she and Sanderson_  set forward were that all Guardians and all Muses would be part of the alliance. Technically, even Rowan Sawyer is part of it now. No matter how much I piss them off, I’m still part of this dysfunctional sorority.”  
  
“But  _she and Sanderson_  started this alliance, why  _couldn’t_  she just decide that you’re not worth the trouble, Mel?” Thalia asked.  
  
“You know she won’t do that,” Melpomene said. “You can’t exist without me, and vice-versa. And if any one of us falls to the Shadow People, it’s a death sentence for the rest of us.  _That’s_  why I’m pushing the deal with Pitch so much.”  
  
“For all of us,” Thalia said. “You really  _aren’t_  just being antagonistic for the sake of it, are you?”  
  
“Maybe a little,” Melpomene smirked, finally glancing back at Thalia, their grey eyes meeting.  
  
“Aw, Mel, you like us,” Thalia said, climbing down from the railing and pulling the taller Muse into a hug. Melpomene stiffened and made a face at the action before lightly patting Thalia on the back.  
  
“I never said that, and you’re pushing it,” Melpomene sighed.  
  
Thalia released Melpomene from her grasp and began fastening her mask onto her face. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you alone. You should get going too, it looks like the sun’s setting.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave in a minute,” Melpomene said.  
  
“See you around, Mel,” Thalia said before disappearing from the spot. Melpomene simply stared at the area that Thalia had been standing in moments before.  
  
“I thought she’d never leave,” came Pitch’s smooth voice from somewhere behind Melpomene. She turned to find him gliding toward her with a small smile on his face. His pace was still slower than it had once been, but the visit to Rowan Sawyer’s apartment the night before had obviously done him some good.  
  
“How are you enjoying the outside world?” Melpomene yawned.  
  
“It would be far more fun if I weren’t worried about Shadow People lurking about in the night,” Pitch sighed. “But I suppose you know all about that.”  
  
“All too well,” Melpomene replied. “But it looks like visiting the Mortal Muse has strengthened you, if slightly.”  
  
“It has,” Pitch nodded. “Everything went smoothly, Jack took the bait, but when she’s alone her fear still persists.”  
  
“Congratulations, this is already going better than the plan you worked centuries on,” the Muse said. Pitch narrowed his eyes at the woman, clearly unamused.  
  
“Yes, well, I am actually in need of some assistance with  _this_  plan.”  
  
“The great Nightmare King is asking for  _my_  help?” Melpomene said, hand to her chest and looking surprised.  
  
“If you want this to work, you will do as I ask,” Pitch said.  
  
“What is it you ask?” Melpomene asked, brow raised.  
  
“I can push them through Rowan’s fears alone, I need  _you_  to work on Jack,” he said.  
  
“Why’s that?” Melpomene asked. “Couldn’t you just give  _him_  a nightmare too?”  
  
“He thinks that Rowan’s worked herself up so much that  _she_  is causing her own nightmares; all the Guardians believe that I am still in hiding, and we need to  _keep_  it that way if I’m going to barter with them. If I give him a nightmare, he’ll know it’s me, he’ll know that I gave Rowan hers and  _I_  will become the enemy rather than the Shadow People,” Pitch explained. “Therefore, I need you to plant frightful thoughts into his head.”  
  
“Jack wants nothing to do with me and I have to come in contact with him to manipulate his thoughts. How am I supposed to do that?” Melpomene sighed. “And it’s not like he doesn’t know that’s what I  _do.”_  
  
“Simple, you won’t be  _you,”_  Pitch said, waving his hand so that some black nightmare sand appeared before his face, circling his eyes like a mask.  
  
Melpomene pulled out her mask and glanced down at it.   
  
“Catch him while he’s sleeping, disguise yourself. If he wakes up, simply lull him back to sleep and manipulate any doubts about who you are away,” Pitch said.  
  
“Disguise myself? As whom?”  
  
“Who would he be least surprised to find in Rowan Sawyer’s apartment?” Pitch asked.  
  
Melpomene smiled softly before placing her mask to her face. A moment later, when she pulled her mask away, she was the mirror image of Rowan Sawyer, right down to the freckles.  
  
“Just as long as he doesn’t catch on to my voice,” Melpomene said.  
  
“Perfect,” Pitch smiled, flicking away some of the now-burgundy bangs from her face.

* * *

  
  
  
  
The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but the lights in Rowan’s apartment were already on. She hadn’t been home long and had settled down on her bed in the hopes of relaxing. She was failing, resorting to fiddling with her phone instead. She frowned at the screen, re-reading the text she had received from Shirley moments earlier. “Are you okay?” it read, “You seemed stressed today.”  
  
What a loaded question  _that_  was. Was Rowan okay? Absolutely not, and evidently she was terrible at hiding this fact lately. Once their professor had decided to give the class a fifteen minute break during the critique, Rowan soon found herself locked inside the girl’s bathroom, leaning over the sink and forcing herself to take deep, even breaths. She had ignored the knocking at the door and tried not to cry, begged her heart to slow down.  
  
 _Dark creatures are trying to kill you! You are going to die! You are going to die! You’re going to be put through the worst emotional pain imaginable and then you are going to die!_  
  
She had forced a few comments the rest of critique but hadn’t spoken nearly as much as she usually did.  _You’re going to die! You’re going to get marked down for lack of participation and then you are going to die!_  
  
She had rushed out of the classroom as soon as possible, not bothering to acknowledge Shirley or any of the other students who attempted to talk to her on her way out. Of course Shirley would text her and ask. Rowan would have done the same thing had the roles been reversed.  
  
“I’m fine, just felt sort of sick today,” she mumbled aloud as she typed her response before finally sending it off to her friend. She and Shirley talked about everything but now she just  _couldn’t_. She couldn’t tell her that Shadow People were looking for her with intentions of killing her. She couldn’t tell her that it was because she was a “Mortal Muse.”  
  
She certainly couldn’t tell her that Jack Overland, the boy she had supposedly just met in Burgess and given her phone number to was not actually a typical boy. He didn’t even have a phone. He was Jack Frost, and he was in charge of making sure that she  _didn’t_  get consumed by dark entities running wild.  
  
If Rowan told her any of that, Shirley would make sure that Rowan found herself in some sort of mental facility or got tested for drugs. Rowan knew this because again, had the situation been reversed, she’d have done the same thing.  
  
How nice it would have been to have actually been under the influence of some hallucinogenic. At least there were handbooks, pamphlets and medical professionals that knew how to deal with that and make those demons go away. This was far more complicated, far more mysterious.  
  
Rowan didn’t like keeping secrets like this, but she didn’t exactly have much choice.  
  
Tapping at her window drew her attention away from her phone. She shuffled to the window before sliding it open and watching as Jack gracefully floated inside.  
  
“Honey, I’m home,” he said casually, landing on her couch.  
  
“And here I am without dinner on the table,” Rowan said sarcastically, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “How was your day,  _Dear?”_  
  
“Oh, you know, made some blizzards,” Jack said with a shrug.  
  
“Oh right, I saw on the internet earlier that the temperature patterns on the map formed the shape of a snowflake. Meteorologists are just  _baffled._ ”  
  
“Did you like that?” he smiled. “I got the idea when we were having coffee.”  
  
“Very creative,” she said, sitting down beside him on the couch. “I noticed the snowflake was very similar to the one I have tattooed.”  
  
“Was it?” Jack shrugged, still smiling. “I also stopped by Burgess today to hang out with the kids, it’s been a good few days.”  
  
Rowan looked worried. “You didn’t tell Jamie what’s going on, did you?”  
  
Jack immediately shook his head. “Nah, I mentioned that I had a new job for the Guardians that I had to do every night but I figured there wasn’t any reason to worry any of them by telling them about the Shadow People or your involvement.”  
  
“Good,” she sighed. “Jamie does not need to get mixed up in this.”  
  
“He won’t, don’t worry,” Jack said, leaning back, “But I think he’s a bit jealous of us spending so much time together.”  
  
“Jealous of who, me or you?” Rowan said, confused.  
  
“I’m not sure, I think it’s just the time we’re spending  _without_  him is all,” he said.  
  
“Aw, poor kid, I didn’t mean to steal his friend away,” Rowan said.   
  
“I think he’s doing better after a few snowball fights, he seemed in higher spirits when I left,” Jack assured her. “Again, don’t worry so much.”  
  
“It’s so much easier said than done,” Rowan sighed. She winced as a small snowflake hit the side of her face before smiling and laughing slightly, her spirits immediately raised. “Jack! Don’t do that!”  
  
“Don’t do what?” he smiled at her innocently.  
  
“I’m trying to be stressed out here!” she said, still smiling.  
  
“I don’t know anyone who would rather be stressed out than have some fun,” Jack said with a smirk.  
  
“You can’t just magic away my legitimate feelings, that’s kind of messed up,” she said, playfully shoving him.  
  
“I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings,” he said, lightly shoving her back. “But you probably spent the whole damn day stressing yourself out, I think you can afford five minutes of smiling.”  
  
Rowan didn’t respond vocally, choosing to roll her eyes and shove Jack yet again. This time he retaliated by reaching for her sides, which confused her until she realized his planned attack: Tickling.  
  
“S-Stop!” she laughed, trying and failing to shove him away.  
  
“What’s the problem? I’m not using magic this time,” he taunted, leaning over her.  
  
“Smartass, c-cut it out! Your hands are  _freezing,”_  she said, still laughing as she reached for the sides of his torso in an attempt to fight fire with fire.  
  
“You have to ask nicer than that!” he said, now laughing himself as she fought back. Each of them squirmed beneath the other’s hands, laughing until their balance was finally lost and they both went tumbling off the couch, Jack smacking his head on the coffee table as they went.  
  
“Ouch, motherf-!” he started, stopping short as he reached to rub his head. Rowan was almost unsurprised to find the awkward position in which they had landed, with Jack beneath her and their faces mere inches apart. Of  _course._  
  
She could feel her cheeks turning pink. Jack smiled nervously.  
  
It wasn’t like that morning, now that they were both awake (and one of them was potentially injured, it seemed that Jack hurt himself a lot in her apartment) it was weird. She couldn’t just lie there on top of him with their faces so devastatingly close.  
  
His eyes really were a frustrating shade of blue; it wasn’t fair.  
  
“I, uh, guess we should call this a stalemate,” Rowan said vaguely grabbing for the edge of the coffee table and pulling herself back to her feet. She offered Jack a hand, which he gladly took in order stand up himself. “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah, I just need to avoid all the tables in this place is what I’m learning,” he said.  
  
“That’s what you get for starting an unprovoked tickle-fight,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.  
  
“Yeah, obviously  _I’m_  the immature one,” Jack said sarcastically. “And it was not unprovoked, you started the shoving match.”  
  
“You started it when you started messing around with your magical antidepressant snowflakes!” she laughed.  
  
“You started  _that_  because you worry about literally  _everything,”_  Jack said, laughing as well.  
  
“You’re impossible!”  
  
 _“You’re_ impossible!”  
  
Rowan would never admit it to Jack but the past few minutes, what with his snowflakes and the tickling and the  _oh no, what do I do, he’s like three inches away from me_ , she hadn’t thought about the Shadow People. She  _had_  been happier. Her mortality hadn’t crossed her mind, not at all.  
  
It was nice, even now that their laughter was dying down and they caught their breath.  
  
“Hey, I wanted to, uh, run something by you,” Rowan said suddenly.  
  
“Yeah?” Jack asked, sitting back on the couch again.  
  
“So I know that Santa- I mean, North- told us that we shouldn’t leave the apartment after it gets dark,” Rowan said.  
  
 _“Shouldn’t_ ,” Jack emphasized.  
  
“Right,” Rowan said. “Well, Friday night is the opening ceremony for the Winter Exhibition.”  
  
“Right, you got a piece in there,” Jack nodded.  
  
“Yes,” she said. “And I mean, I was going to ask you to stop by  _before_  all this happened because I kind of wanted you to see my piece. But now since you’re basically my bodyguard and it will be dark at that point…”  
  
“I’ll go with you to the show, I mean, people will probably think there’s a draft or something but most people there shouldn’t believe in me so I should be basically invisible,” he said.  
  
“Great, I mean, I just didn’t want to miss it since it’s the first time I’ve gotten my work into a juried show and everything,” Rowan said. “It starts at six but the award ceremony isn’t until seven so I’ll probably leave here like six-thirty.”  
  
“What do you get if you win?” he asked curiously.  
  
“Oh, I probably won’t win anything, I’m a sophomore,” Rowan said, waving the notion away with her hand. “But you get a certificate and I think there’s a cash prize and it looks good on a resume.”  
  
“What’s your piece, anyway? You never told me,” Jack pointed out.  
  
“It’s a surprise,” Rowan said, smirking as he frowned in disappointment. “Also, the next morning I’m going to drive back home to see my parents.”  
  
Jack nodded along, “Right, so I’m going to be hanging out over there every night instead.”  
  
“Right,” she said. “I’m sure my dad is going to have something to say about my heating bill lately. Whenever you’re here, the heat kicks into full gear.”  
  
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Jack smiled.  
  
“It’s fine, worst-case scenario I get a lecture,” she shrugged. “Anyway, I guess I should probably try to eat something, I’ve just had coffee today…”  
  
“Yes, that’s something else I’ve heard is necessary for survival,” Jack smiled, reaching for the copy of  _Catch-22_  on the coffee table and flipping it open to the page he’d dog-eared the night before. Rowan couldn’t help glancing in his direction every now and again as she shuffled through her pantry.  
  
She was becoming used to him being around already, and this worried her.


	20. Of Masques and Martyrs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, do you know what this is? It is the twentieth chapter in this story! This is a big deal because 1) this means I have managed to stay committed to this thing without getting disenchanted or bored, and that's really exciting and 2) I have not dropped the f-bomb within this story for twenty chapters. I curse like a sailor outside this story, it's sort of ridiculous.

_"Don’t worry, Jack, just go back to sleep. Everything is fine."_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Of Masques and Martyrs**

* * *

  
  
The roof of Rowan’s apartment complex was rarely ever visited, save for a random maintenance worker. It was much like the top of any other building, faded by the sun and covered in cobwebs. Melpomene never minded the cobwebs, finding that when you hid in dark places, they were not uncommon.  
  
She paced the roof, the moonbeam assigned to her lurking close behind. When she had glanced in the window earlier, she had found that Rowan and Jack were still awake, but fading. She need only wait a while longer.  
  
Clouds shifted, bringing the moon into view. Melpomene glanced up as the lighting changed. She sighed, shifting her weight uncomfortably in response before crossing her arms before her chest.  
  
“Don’t look at me like that, Tsar Lunar,” Melpomene said, looking down at the roof rather than directly at the moon. “I do not follow you, nor would I wish to. Despite our alliance, I am loyal to the sun, and surely you know I am not the only one.”  
  
The moon continued shining down on her, as though staring her down.  
  
“Oh, are you surprised that someone dares not think well of you? It amazes me that those you watch over think so highly of you. You’ve cursed them with responsibilities they never wanted, immortality they were not prepared for. They should resent you, and yet they go to you for guidance and sing your praises. Stockholm Syndrome at it’s finest.  
  
“You must be thinking that the sun does this to his Muses, so why am I so bitter at you? Apollo does not pretend to have the best interests of the human race in mind. He does not appoint Guardians while doing nothing to guard his chosen few from harm. The sun never acted like we should be grateful for what he’s done.”  
  
Melpomene took a step forward, finally looking straight up at the moon. “And now you’re upset that I have plans to manipulate Jack again. You thought that I was done, you think that I’ve put the poor boy through enough. But let’s be honest,  _Manny,_  if you truly wanted to protect him from me, you’d be doing more than glaring down at me from a world away.   
  
“You could have stopped this the  _first_  time around, you could have warned him to stay away from me. You could have sent a helping hand to guide him away but instead you watched in silence as that lonely spirit fell for my tricks. Alone, desperate, and sad because of the immortality  _you_  granted him without another word.”  
  
Lightly setting her hands on her hips, she continued, “You love a good tragedy just as much as I do, as much as the sun does. You wrote the tragedy of Jack Frost,  _you_  gave me material to work with. You have no room to look down your craters at me.”  
  
Her moonbeam seemed to twitch, as though uncomfortable, and Melpomene smiled. “Aw, I’ve upset you greatly, haven’t I? You want to call off my moonbeam. But you’re royalty, Tsar Lunar, royalty to your core, even if your only subjects are now misfits with some magic tricks. You know that would be bad politics. And what’s most important, you know that Pitch’s plan has to work for whatever plan  _you_  have lined up, doesn’t it? Jack has to suffer, yet again, and though you may want to be a better leader to him, you know it must be done.”  
  
Melpomene pulled out her mask, setting it in front of her face for a time before removing it once more, her appearance transformed into Rowan’s. Big brown eyes, burgundy-dyed hair, and beauty marks near the inner corner of her eye and the side of her cheek.  
  
“So let me do my work,” Melpomene said, setting her mask to her face again. This time when she pulled it away, she was inside the dimly lit apartment, Jack and Rowan asleep, as she had hoped for. The Muse tucked her mask away, stopping at the mirror on the nearby wall and running her fingers through her hair. She examined her reflection in the dim light for a moment, satisfied that she was a convincing Rowan Sawyer. All she had to do was make sure that she blocked Jack’s view of the real thing, currently slumbering in her bed.  
  
Silently, Melpomene approached the couch that Jack had fallen asleep on. He still had those dark circles under his eyes that she remembered. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips as she realized this. Gently, she reached forward and pushed back his disheveled bangs. He shifted only slightly under her touch, and she held her breath for a moment.  
  
Ideally, he’d continue sleeping the entire visit, her disguise unnecessary.  
  
Lightly placing the back of her hand to the side of his face, she watched him closely and began thinking as clearly as she could.  
  
 _You’ll never be able to protect her. You’re not strong enough. You’re not a good enough fighter. The victory over Pitch was a fluke, children cannot bail you out this time. Being the Guardian of Fun means nothing. You cannot protect her. You are not strong enough._  
  
As he winced in his sleep, Melpomene continued, placing her other hand to his other cheek.  
  
 _If she dies, the Muses will fall. If the Muses fall, the Guardians will soon after. The world will dissolve in to darkness and despair. It will be all your fault. You do not have enough information. You cannot possibly protect her. You are going to make a mess of things like you always do. Why are you even a Guardian? They have placed her fragile life into your clumsy hands. You cannot do this. You cannot do this._  
  
His eyes opened, if slightly and Melpomene paused, watching for his next move.  
  
“Rowan? Is something wrong?” he mumbled, reaching to rub at his tired eyes.  
  
“Shhh,” Melpomene said, careful to keep her voice at a whisper. She had never heard Rowan speak before, had no means of attempting to mimic it. “Go back to sleep.”  
  
 _You will never be able to protect her. If she dies you will have only yourself to blame. You need help. You can’t do this alone. They’ve chosen the wrong guard. You cannot do this._  
  
“Rowan, why-” he started, beginning to sit up. Melpomene grabbed for his shoulders to stop him, careful to hold eye contact. He could not see Rowan in her bed, he could not find out this was a trick.  
  
“Don’t worry, Jack, just go back to sleep,” she whispered, leaning forward and resting her forehead to his. “Everything is fine.”  
  
 _Everything is not fine. The Shadow People want her dead and the only reason they didn’t do more damage to you is because Toothiana was there to pull you away. How could they trust you with her care? You will never be able to protect her. She will die, and it will be because of you._  
  
Jack groaned putting a hand to the side of his head and massaging it, as though he was suddenly suffering from a headache.  
  
“Go back to sleep, Jack,” Melpomene whispered, leaning close and lightly kissing his cheek.  
  
 _YOU CANNOT PROTECT HER. YOU ARE WORTHLESS. YOU CANNOT DO THIS. YOU ARE A SAD EXCUSE FOR A GUARDIAN, THERE WAS OBVIOUSLY A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. YOU CANNOT PROTECT HER. SHE IS GOING TO DIE THE WORST DEATH YOU CAN IMAGINE. YOU CANNOT PROTECT HER._  
  
He set his head down, clutching the sides of it and closing his eyes, grimacing.  
  
“That’s it, Jack, go back to sleep,” Melpomene practically purred, running her hand over his hair.  
  
 _You cannot protect her. You cannot do this alone. You cannot protect her. She will die._  
  
Melpomene released the boy from her grasp and watched him for a moment. When she was certain he had fallen back asleep, she pulled herself to her feet, dusting herself off.  
  
“You’ve always been too easy, Jackie-Boy,” she muttered as she pulled her mask out and placed it before her face. In the next instant, she was gone.

* * *

  
  
Jack stirred before opening his eyes, his head aching and mind racing. Sitting upright, he looked around madly before finding Rowan sleeping soundly in her bed and sighed in relief. Good. She was still there; she was still okay.  
  
Rubbing the side of his head, he stood upright, taking his staff with him as he went. He leaned the staff against her bedside table and looked down at her carefully. He watched for every breath, every twitch, every indication that she was still alive.  
  
Seeing that she was all right somehow was not easing his mind. It felt like the calm before the storm, like something terrible was going to happen and he was powerless to stop it. Something was going to go wrong.  
  
She was okay. She was breathing. She was alive. There were no Shadow People in sight. And yet, the feeling of dread would not stop.  
  
Her face, expressing an eerie sort of misery, flashed in his mind. Earlier, the kiss on the cheek, had it actually happened? Or had he been dreaming? It was all a fog, he couldn’t remember.  
  
If it hadn’t been a dream, then why had Rowan been caressing his face in his sleep, why had she set her forehead to his then kissed his cheek? If it  _had_  been a dream, then why on earth was he dreaming about her doing such a thing?  
  
It sounded like something to ask Sandy about, but of course, the cheerful mute worked at night, when Jack was otherwise occupied.  
  
Otherwise occupied making sure that Rowan wasn’t killed. Ever since he was assigned this job he had taken to ignoring his doubts and assuring himself that things would somehow turn out okay.  
  
But it wasn’t working anymore, he couldn’t get the thought of failing out of his mind. The thoughts screamed louder than ever before. He couldn’t possibly protect her by himself, could he?  
  
What else could he possibly do?  
  
Crashing on her couch wasn’t going to be an option anymore, he decided. It was too easy to miss something, potential threats or otherwise. He could avoid sleeping, but he’d been more exhausted than usual ever since this whole thing started. Between having to interact with the Muses, the Shadow People, the constant butting heads with the other Guardians over Rowan, and Rowan and whatever weird relationship they had in  _general?_  His mind needed the rest. The last thing Rowan needed was to have a delirious spirit trying to make sense of an attack with a tired mind.  
  
Kneeling down beside her bed, as though in prayer, Jack reached forward and took her wrist in his hand until he could feel her pulse. More confirmation she was alive. Folding his other arm on the surface of the comforter in front of him, he rested his head and attempted to clear his mind.  
  
It wasn’t working.

* * *

  
  
“Why would Pitch want to meet  _here?_ ” Melpomene muttered under her breath, strolling through the woods just outside the lake near Burgess until she found a clearing where the remains of a bed  _used_  to reside.  
  
“Sentimental bastard,” she sighed. Her moonbeam followed her closely, though it seemed to give off some degree of hesitation. The harsh words Melpomene had thrown in Manny’s direction had obviously affected his servant.  
  
 _“Late_ , sentimental bastard,” she said. Surely Pitch hadn’t expected her to take all night, had he? Or perhaps he had, perhaps he wasn’t planning on meeting her until morning, when the sun was out. That would certainly make more sense, as far as their safety went, but she knew he’d want details on how her visit with Jack went as soon as possible.  
  
Her appearance was once more of her own dark hair and pale face, rejecting Rowan’s as soon as she had vacated the apartment. Her moonbeam twitched suddenly and Melpomene glanced down at it, brow raised. It inched in the direction of the path they had just taken and Melpomene’s gaze followed.  
  
It was quite hard to see unless one was really looking for it, but the shadows past the trees seemed to shift slightly. Melpomene sighed, rolling her eyes.  
  
“Pitch!” she called. “Cut it out with the shadow tricks, I know it’s you!”  
  
She received no response. Frowning, she walked forward, passing her careful moonbeam in the process. The orb of light was quick to catch up with her as she squinted in an attempt to better see in the distance.  
  
“Really, Pitch, this isn’t funny. If you’re trying to feed off  _my_  fear or something, you know you’re barking up the wrong tree,” she said. Still, no response. The moonbeam floated in front of her before ramming into her chest in an attempt to push her back the way she came. She waved the orb of light away before walking forward further, nearly to the edge of the trees now.  
  
“Pitch…?”  
  
She stopped as the shadows rushed forward, erupting from the ground and materializing into eerie, dark forms. Silhouettes of people, with only dark accents where features were supposed to be.  
  
Melpomene began stepping back and away, eyes wide as the Shadow People approached her, the moonbeam traveling with her protectively. Fumbling for the part of her outfit she’d tucked her mask away in, she finally pulled it out, having every intention of disappearing from the spot.  
  
She’d go somewhere else,  _anywhere_  else where it was still daylight. Sorry Pitch, but this meeting was not worth this trouble, not at all.  
  
Taking the ribbons attached to her mask in each hand, she went to place it before her face when the Shadow People lunged forward. Her moonbeam was quick to attack and dispose of one, but another succeeded in knocking her mask from her grasp, far off near some other trees.  
  
Melpomene swore, jumping to the side as a few more of them pounced toward her. They were moving exceptionally quickly, and while her moonbeam  _was_  helping, it was having as much difficulty keeping up with them as Melpomene was having dodging their blows.  
  
Shadows reached forward, wrapping themselves around her arms and pulling her to the ground as she attempted to escape. She landed face-first in the snow with a groan. The sensation the shadows left was strange, restraints that were pleasantly soft, but cold. She wasn’t sure if they were meant to comfort or not, and suspected the resulting unease and growing paranoia was the intended result.  
  
“You aren’t strong enough to take my powers,” she hissed, the moonbeam eliminating one of the shadows holding down her arm, only for it to be quickly replaced by another.  
  
Finally, a rather tall, impressive Shadow Person approached her before seeming to melt into and take the shape of her form. Everything was now dark. As she tried to move, she found that she could not do more than shift slightly.  
  
Her feelings of paranoia began to rise. Logically she knew they weren’t powerful enough to kill her but all she could think was that she was going to die, die for  _real_  this time, all because she had shown up for a meeting with Pitch.  
  
But the Shadow People had chosen the wrong Muse.  
  
The fear began to fade when she considered that she might not mind such a fate. She had a good run. Perhaps it was time for her to finally go. After all, the people of the world were awfully good at coming up with their own tragedies. Sure, Thalia would likely go down with her shortly after, but if the sun  _really_  needed another comedy and tragedy duo, surely he could just make himself some new ones.  
  
Melpomene was certain to make sure that the Shadow People knew that the thoughts they filled her mind with, the absolute feelings of dread for her life as she knew it,  _comforted her_. They made her downright giddy; they inspired her and brought _more life_  to her form.  
  
She could feel their hold growing weaker.  
  
She smiled, finally yanking her arms free of their grasp. Her moonbeam finished off the shadow that was still clinging to her form, trying desperately to weaken her.  
  
“I am tragedy!” she cried, pulling herself back to her feet. “You can’t break my spirit!  _It’s already broken!_  I am Ophelia! I am Desdemona! I am Juliet! I am every tragic story you’ve ever heard or imagined!”  
  
Still, they circled her and her moonbeam, though more carefully than before. After a moment of silent contemplation amongst themselves, they all lunged forward at once, seeming to decide that strength in numbers was the best approach. The moonbeam darted around the shadows frantically to fight them off. Melpomene struggled to pull away again until she felt something around her waist.  
  
Hastily, she was yanked from the Shadow People’s grasp and found herself being thrown through the air toward the edge of the trees. She landed less than gracefully, but out of their reach and safe for now, as it seemed most of them hadn’t noticed she was gone yet. Glancing down, she found sparkling, black nightmare sand around her waist. Glancing up, she found the man that had lassoed her.  
  
“Well if the Boogie Man thing continues  _not_  to work out, you have a promising career in rodeo,” she said. Pitch narrowed his eyes at her remark but offered his hand to help her back to her feet regardless.  
  
In the distance, the poor moonbeam was working overtime and had managed to decrease the number of Shadow People by at least a third.  
  
“We have to leave,” Pitch said, stepping back as the Shadow People began to approach them once more. They were moving slower than they had before, at least.   
  
“Yeah, great plan, if only  _I_  had thought of that,” Melpomene said sarcastically, stepping back with him.  
  
“Just use your mask,  _get us out of here_ ,” he hissed, eyeing the approaching creatures nervously. Melpomene didn’t like when Pitch showed fear. It was just too odd.  
  
“Yeah, well, my mask is over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the clearing. “So now would be a good time to use the same trick you used on me.”  
  
“I’m running out of power to  _do this,_  Melpomene,” Pitch said, waving about his hands to create more nightmare sand.  
  
“That’s not my  _problem,_  Pitch,” she said. “Just  _do it or they’ll kill you.”_  
  
“Oh delightful, no pressure then,” he said, sending forward a burst of sand toward her mask before she grabbed him by his arm and sprinted out of the way of another attack.  
  
As the Shadow People began approaching them again, the nightmare sand returned, Melpomene’s mask in tow. She quickly caught it and brushed away the remaining sand as her moonbeam darted over to her and hid itself in the folds of her clothes. As she set the mask to her face, Pitch pulled his arms around her waist and the Shadow People charged at them once more.  
  
They were suddenly in Pitch’s lair and safe. For now, anyway.  
  
Pitch released his grasp on Melpomene and the moonbeam went back to its place hovering closely, but not  _too_  closely to the Muse. She removed her mask.  
  
Melpomene approached Pitch’s elaborate throne and collapsed onto it, her mask in her lap as she held her head in her hands.  
  
“Well, they didn’t  _kill_  you,” Pitch said, hovering over her and examining her critically.  
  
“Just a little dizzy now that the adrenaline is wearing off,” she sighed. “Wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been  _late_.”  
  
“You’re welcome, by the way, for pulling you out of there,” Pitch said, crossing his arms before him and watching her in irritation.  
  
“I wouldn’t need to be pulled out of there if you had  _been on time_ ,” Melpomene sneered, looking up at him.  
  
“You should have spent more time corrupting Jack’s mind, I wasn’t expecting you until morning,” Pitch said.  
  
 _“I_  don’t have to hide under beds to make sure my work’s been done,” she said, one of her hands falling by her side. “Besides, I’ve worked on Jack before, it was a quick job. Can you not feel his fear?”  
  
Pitch nodded shortly. “I can. I only hope it lasts.”

* * *

  
  
It was now Friday evening and Jack found himself leaning against Rowan’s wall and watching curiously as she began applying makeup to her face, her hair already styled with a braid acting as a sort of headband. She wore a bath robe, having not changed into what she planned on wearing for the night yet.   
  
She seemed in better spirits, and Jack assumed that it was due to the fact that as of now, she was finished with her semester. There would be no more projects or tests until January.  
  
For the next few weeks she just had to worry about the dark creatures trying to kill her was all. No big deal, right?  
  
Not so much. Jack’s mind hadn’t been at ease since about two nights ago when he’d fallen asleep kneeling at Rowan’s bedside, with her wrist firmly in his grasp. He’d only woken up when she had, shifting her arm in the process and waking him with the movement. He had immediately grabbed for his staff in order to fight off any adversaries.  
  
There were none, only Rowan’s alarm tone, which she had changed in the hope of startling Jack less. Jack had awkwardly waved off Rowan’s questions, insisting that he had only been sleeping where he had as a change of pace (which she didn’t seem to buy). The previous night had been much the same, feeling for her pulse after she had fallen asleep.  
  
He was trying not to give away his worry. Rowan worried enough for the both of them, and revealing that he feared he might not be able to protect her was not going to go over well.  
  
But he was the Guardian of Fun, and if anyone could keep smiling despite discouraging thoughts, it had to be him.  
  
“These stupid Shadow People,” she groaned, applying concealer to her chin. “They’re giving me stress zits.”  
  
Jack tilted his head as though to see her face at a better angle from where he was standing. “Huh, they are. Wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t said anything.”  
  
“Yeah well you can’t seem to tell much difference between me with makeup and me without makeup, so,” Rowan replied. “Which either says you’re not observant or I suck at makeup.”  
  
“Probably the first one, I would hope that someone in art school would have half a clue with cosmetics,” Jack said.  
  
“Quick!” Rowan said, closing her eyes. “What color are my eyes, Oh, Unobservant Guardian?”  
  
“Brown,” Jack said immediately. “I’m not  _that_  oblivious.”  
  
“Very good,” Rowan said, opening her eyes. She reached for one of the many makeup brushes and began applying foundation to her face. “Asked one of my ex-boyfriends that, he was under the impression that my eyes were green.”  
  
“Is that why he’s an ex-boyfriend?” Jack asked. He wasn’t sure how someone could get that question wrong. Rowan’s eyes were large and round, not easily overlooked.  
  
“Not that specifically, but it didn’t help him,” she said. After a moment she fumbled with some powder and blush.  
  
“Was this the same one that you wrote the really long breakup letter to?” Jack asked.  
  
“Danny? No. He actually mentioned to me once that because brown eyes are a dominant trait, if we had children they’d be more likely to have my eye color than his.”  
  
“He was talking to you about your  _children?”_  Jack said, making a face.  
  
“My reaction exactly,” she said, searching her makeup bag until she pulled out a tube of eye shadow primer and began applying it to her eyelids. “I think he assumed that because I’m trying to get into children’s books that I want to pop kids out right away. No,  _thank you._  Actually, it’s funny, most people with an emphasis on children’s books don’t even like kids.”   
  
“You seem to like them okay.”  
  
“Yeah, but I don’t  _want_  one,” she grimaced. “At least not for like… a  _while.”_  
  
“Understandable,” Jack said, watching as she put the tube of primer away. “So what does that stuff even  _do?_  You’re smearing it all over your eyes but it doesn’t have any color.”  
  
“It makes the color of the eye shadow look better,” Rowan said, fiddling with an eye shadow palette and some brushes. “It also makes it last longer and it doesn’t turn into a creased and smeary mess.”  
  
“Oh,” Jack said, still unsure about the whole “makeup” thing. She looked fine either way, but it seemed that the pigments and brushes brought her some kind of joy, so who was he to judge?  
  
It wasn’t very long before she was carefully applying her eyeliner and curling her eyelashes in preparation for mascara. She then began to put all the various cosmetics back in her bag, leaving out only a tube of deep red lipstick.  
  
“Red lipstick sort of night, I think,” she said, more to herself than to Jack, standing up. “But I’ll put it on before we leave.”  
  
Her mention of lipstick only made him think of her lips as she pulled open her closet and began sorting through the clothes she had hung here. He still wasn’t sure if the kiss on the cheek had been a dream or not. He wanted to ask her, but each time he tried, he could feel himself beginning to blush and changed the subject.  
  
She disappeared into the bathroom with a dress and some black stockings. He hadn’t taken note of which dress she’d taken, still considering the event that may or may not have happened. He knew he should just ask, the worst she could say was that it was a dream. Then he’d know and he could move on.  
  
But  _why_  was that the worst she could say? Why was he so afraid that it would be the case and that she hadn’t actually shown a strange amount of affection for him in the middle of the night?  
  
But if she  _had,_  then why hadn’t  _she_  mentioned anything? He had forgotten how hard it was to figure out girls.   
  
“Jack?” Rowan said, stepping out of the bathroom. She wore a strapless dress, which featured a tight, pencil skirt. The top of the dress was off-white, while the skirt was a dark purple. It was nicer than what she usually wore, but not overly formal. She held a hand against the fabric near the top of the dress, as though fearful it would slip.  
  
“You look nice,” Jack said after taking a moment to examine the dress.  
  
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “Think you can do me a favor and zip me? I got the zipper about halfway but…”  
  
“Er, sure,” he said, walking over to where she stood. She turned around to reveal the only partially zipped zipper. Not to mention, the clasped back of the strapless bra she wore and all the faint freckles on her back.  
  
Jack was suddenly very glad to be facing Rowan’s back, because just how fixated he was with her freckles  _had_  to be sort of creepy.  
  
Setting one hand to her side, he grabbed for the zipper with the other and tugged upwards, finding that it wouldn’t budge. It was one of those stupid, thin zippers that so many dresses had.  
  
“Try unzipping it some, it might have snagged on a thread or something,” Rowan said.  
  
Unzip it some? What a grand idea, Rowan, that’s not awkward at all.  
  
“All right,” Jack said hesitantly, pulling down the zipper a few inches, which of course served only to reveal more of her bare back. It crossed his mind to simply keep unzipping but he quickly shook that thought away. He was  _three hundred_  and eighteen years old, thank you, he was  _not_  a hopeless young person whose hormones dictated his decisions.  
  
At least, that was what he had to continue telling himself as he pulled the zipper upright. This time it did not snag, and reached the top with ease. With slightly shaking hands, he fixed the hook at the top of the zipper.  
  
“Thank you for that,” Rowan said, turning to face him once more. Jack sincerely hoped his face wasn’t giving away any bashfulness. It was an adjective not often associated with him, after all.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he said as casually as he could manage. Returning to her closet, Rowan pulled out her boots before taking a seat to pull them on and lace them.  
  
“I’m not gonna pretend to know anything about fashion but, um… I wasn’t expecting the boots,” Jack said, returning to the table where he’d propped his staff and taking it in his hand again.  
  
“Yes, well, it’s kind of  _snowing_ ,” she said, casting him an accusatory glance. “So I’m going to wear these until I get to my car, at least, I have some heels I’m going to change into.”   
  
Jack simply smiled innocently. Honestly, half the fun of having control over ice and snow was the amount of people he got to irritate with all the various inconveniences.  
  
As Rowan finished lacing her boots, she grabbed for her phone on the table and slid her thumb across the screen a few times. After reading something on the screen, she grabbed for her peacoat and pulled it on.  
  
“Well, it looks like Adam got his car running so I don’t have to pick him and Shirley up,” Rowan said, approaching the mirror on her wall and applying the lipstick she’d set aside earlier. She ran her finger along the bottom edge of her mouth for a moment before pocketing the tube of lipstick, finding her application satisfactory.  
  
“So, I get shotgun then,” Jack said.  
  
“Unless you want to ride on the roof again,” she replied, pulling a pair of purple heels that matched her dress from the closet.  
  
“Nah, I like the whole ‘seatbelt’ aspect,” he smiled.  
  
“Is that another jab at my driving?”  
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes, grabbing for her gloves and her car keys, her heels still dangling in her other hand. “Come on then, Frost, I have pedestrians and other drivers to endanger.”

 


	21. Wish Me Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two characters, Nicolette and Quinn, appear in this chapter! Nicolette belongs to me and Quinn belongs to my friend, Kit. We've been working on them for years now (it's kind of ridiculous) and I thought it would be fun if they made a cameo. Using Quinn with permission.
> 
> Oh yeah, and I shamelessly make fun of fine artists in this chapter. So this is my disclaimer to state that I apologize if I offend anyone and I am aware that there are sane fine artists out there. It's just the crazy ones that are the loudest, is all. Sincerely, an Illustration Major

_Jack walked alongside Rowan, wincing as several other people in the gallery walked straight through him.  It was never a nice thing to experience.  Especially after spending so much time around believers recently._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One: Wish Me Luck**

* * *

  
  
Urania twisted through the air, her moonbeam following her with glee, like synchronized swimmers performing a flawless routine. Tooth flew nearby, with a smile that mirrored Urania’s as the wind whipped through her feathers, a few mini fairies in tow. Calliope, transformed into her bird form, glided alongside them. The sun hadn’t been down for long, the night was clear and the moon was bright.  
  
“It’s so nice to have you two along the rounds with me,” Tooth said.  
  
“It’s been too long since we’ve visited you without some kind of dire circumstance being the reason, Toothiana,” Calliope said. Urania snickered. “What’s so funny, Urania?”  
  
“I’m sorry, but every time you talk when you’re in your bird form, it’s just  _funny,”_  Urania said. “Say ‘nevermore’.”  
  
“I’m not a raven,” Calliope said dryly. She was something like a common grackle, but not quite. In fact, Urania had never found a bird exactly like Calliope when she was in this state.  
  
“I could say it, but I’m not a raven either,” Tooth chuckled.  
  
“I’ll just bother Melpomene to recite some Poe later,” Urania smiled.   
  
“Oh, one second, ladies!” Tooth said, darting into the nearby house. Urania landed lightly on the roof with Calliope landing on one shoulder and their moonbeams on the other. They weren’t waiting long before Tooth appeared, absolutely giddy, with a molar in hand.  
  
“It’s so nice watching you work,” Calliope said. “All the Guardians, actually, you can just see the joy it brings you.”  
  
“Even Jack?” Tooth said, raising a brow.  
  
“No comment,” Calliope smiled. If birds could smile. Urania rolled her eyes.  
  
“Jack’s not so bad, Calliope, if it weren’t for him, we’d be having to put Rowan in hiding and figure out how to cover up her sudden disappearance,” Urania said. “Has anyone heard how those two are doing, by the way?”  
  
“I assumed that no news was good news,” Calliope said as they began flying off again. “Provided that Jack’s actually been _guarding_  her.”  
  
“What else could he be doing?” Tooth said hesitantly.  
  
“Two teenagers in closed quarters in the middle of the night, do I need to call up Erato to explain?” Calliope said.  
  
“I thought he had a thing with Tooth,” Urania said, confused. Tooth stopped in midair, her cheeks turning red as she hushed the Muse.  
  
“Tooth, we all know you like him,” Calliope said as she and Urania circled back to where Tooth was hovering.  
  
“Even  _Thalia_  knows, and she has the attention span of a small dog,” Urania added.  
  
“I just… we don’t have a  _thing_ ,” Tooth said, seeming disappointed as they began flying off into the distance again. Tooth was ahead of the others only slightly, sending her mini fairies off to collect teeth elsewhere. “I just didn’t think that he and Rowan did either.”  
  
Calliope and Urania exchanged looks.  
  
“Honestly, though, Tooth, you can do so much better, have you  _seen_  Cupid lately?” Calliope said suggestively.  
  
“Cupid is like a nephew to me!” Tooth said, flying backwards so that she could face the Muses. “I remember when he was a _baby.”_  
  
“We all do, he only ages, what, one year every century?” Urania said. “I don’t think he’d even started  _puberty_  yet when the Renaissance hit.”  
  
“He’s actually  _older_  than you, Tooth,” Calliope added.  
  
“That’s not the point,” Tooth said. “I’m not exactly looking for you guys to play matchmaker, at least not  _now_. There’s too much going on! Besides, of all the immortal beings out there, I’m sure Cupid is the  _last_  one who needs a matchmaker.”  
  
“Just saying, you can do better than Jack Frost. Actually, even  _Rowan_  could probably do better than him,” Calliope said. Urania cast her a glance as though to say she wasn’t helping. “But I’m still undecided on the girl.”  
  
“She’s just… young,” Urania said. “And scared. We all were when we were first exposed to this world.”  
  
“She’s lacking a certain grace,” Calliope said. “It’s unsurprising that Jack would find it attractive.”  
  
 _“If_  he finds her attractive at all,” Urania hastily added as a frown crossed Tooth’s face.  
  
“Everyone seems to think that’s the case, Bunny certainly does. And the way he acted around her at the meeting, the way he touched her shoulder and the way he smiled at her when I first met her… I mean, he’s never smiled at  _me_  that way,” Tooth sighed.  
  
“You can’t base your attraction to people on their teeth,” Calliope said. “Not that his aren’t nice – don’t tell him I said anything good about him – but Tooth he’s-”  
  
“Not  _your_  type, I get it, Calliope,” Tooth said. “He’s just got this certain charm about him. He’s sly, he’s smart, and yes, at times immature, but he knows how to make someone laugh. It’s not  _just_  his teeth.”  
  
“Sanderson speaks highly of him,” Calliope admitted. “I just…”  
  
“Are you holding a grudge for Melpomene?” Tooth asked.  
  
“Not exactly,” Calliope said. “But I worry about what it was that attracted her to him in the first place. She’s running around with Pitch Black now and-”  
  
“Jack isn’t anything like Pitch,” Tooth said immediately.  
  
“That’s the thing, Tooth, he  _is.”_  
  
“They’re lost, lonely souls,” Urania said. “But the difference is how they try to find their way. Jack has the Guardians now, but he’s obviously still adjusting.”  
  
“I trust Jack, we all do,” Tooth said, turning so that she could fly facing forward yet again.  
  
“So, I guess he told you guys all about how Pitch asked him to join his side when he was trying to get rid of all of you,” Calliope said. Tooth glanced back at the Muse briefly, silent and brow furrowed.  
  
“I’ll take that as a no,” Urania said.  
  
“How do you know that?” Tooth asked.  
  
“Pitch told Melpomene,” Calliope said.  
  
Tooth shook her head. “What does it matter? He didn’t join Pitch, he came through for us, he’ll do it again. He’s a Guardian, just as much as I am.”  
  
“I just don’t want to see you hurt, Tooth. Really, you’re one of our dearest friends,” Calliope said.  
  
“You don’t seem very concerned about Rowan getting hurt. She’s supposed to be part of your sisterhood, isn’t she?” Tooth asked.  
  
“She has a point, Calliope,” Urania said to the bird.  
  
“She’s not a Muse, she just has the potential to be. It hasn’t happened in centuries, I’m not holding my breath,” Calliope said.  
  
“You used to be much kinder to the Mortal Muses in the past,” Urania said. “You were rather cold to her during the meeting.”  
  
“It’s not worth the heartache, not for any of us,” Calliope said. “Bunny is not wrong, trying to keep them apart. Someone is going to end up hurt, there’s no way it can end well for anyone involved.”

* * *

  
  
Jack’s brow was furrowed, his hand to his chin in contemplation as he stared at a sculpture in the middle of the gallery space. It was labeled as “Untitled,” and  _sort of_  looked like some kind of figure but  _mostly_  didn’t look like anything. Jack wasn’t exactly sure what it was even made of, it seemed to be various pieces of junk hot-glued together. Was that a condom…?  
  
Rowan, who now matched Jack’s height thanks to the heels she had changed into, seemed to be trying not to laugh at him as he continued gazing, exceptionally confused, at the sculpture. Her coat was draped over her arm and she held a glass of water she’d retrieved from one of the various refreshment tables.  
  
“Okay, I give up, what is it?” Jack asked.  
  
“Fine art,” Rowan giggled, taking a sip of her water.  
  
“I don’t get it,” he said.  
  
“Well,  _obviously_  that just means that you’re an unenlightened conformist,” she whispered, rolling her eyes.   
  
“Ah, yes, obviously,” he said, tilting his head as though it might make the sculpture make more sense. “Is all fine art like this?”  
  
“A lot of it,” she muttered, hoping to be discreet.  
  
“Can we go see art that makes sense?”  
  
Rowan smiled and turned away from the sculpture, leading the way to another room of the gallery. Here, they found some submissions from the illustration department. Jack stopped to look at a watercolor portrait of the Lady of Shallot.  
  
“Here we go, dead girl in a boat, perfectly logical,” he said.  
  
“Rowan!” Shirley said, approaching the girl and throwing an arm around her shoulder, a glass of wine in her hand. “There you are! Your piece has had quite a few admirers.”  
  
“How’d you get the wine, they check IDs, don’t they?” Rowan said, eyeing the glass in her friend’s hand.  
  
“Adam got it for me, shh,” Shirley said, removing her arm from Rowan’s shoulders and setting a finger to her lips. “Do you want me to ask him to grab one for you?”  
  
“No, that’s okay,” Rowan said.  
  
“Aw, come on, I’ll be your designated driver,” Jack chuckled. “Are you a happy drunk or a sad drunk?” Rowan simply cast him a slightly annoyed glance, which he returned with a smirk. It was entirely too entertaining to harass Rowan in front of her friends.  
  
“I think I’m gonna go lurk by my piece and see what people are saying,” Rowan said.  
  
“All right, I’m gonna try and find Adam. Did you see that weird piece with the fine art stuff?” Shirley said.  
  
“You have  _got_  to be more specific,” Rowan smirked.  
  
“The weird sculpture thing that almost looks like a person,” she said.  
  
“Well, I mean, um,  _obviously_ , it’s commentary on, you know, modern society and the, uh…” Rowan said, waving her hand a bit as though trying to figure out something else to say.  
  
“The conformist nature of people, our, uh, tyrannical government and of course, how deeply misunderstood the artist is,” Shirley said, nodding. Jack watched as the two girls both attempted to keep straight faces before finally beginning to laugh.  
  
“Oh, fine artists,” Shirley said, setting her glass to her lips. “I’ll see you in a bit, Rowan.”  
  
“See you,” Rowan said as the pair parted ways. Rowan and Jack had barely walked a few paces before someone else called her name.  
  
“Rowan!” said the approaching girl. Her long, silky hair was black, save for her bangs, which were dyed a bright red and framed her pale face. She pulled along a boy by his hand, his dark shaggy hair in his eyes.  
  
“Oh, hi Nicolette, Quinn, I’m glad you guys could make it,” Rowan said.  
  
“Of course! And  _you_ should try to make it to the coffee shop off Fifth Street at around nine if you can! We’re having our acoustic show. I just, I had the  _best_  idea for a song after talking to you a few weeks ago and we’re finally gonna perform it and-” Nicolette started. Jack’s head spun, he had never heard a girl speak so quickly before in his many centuries of living. Glancing at Rowan, he found her looking slightly puzzled as well.  
  
“Basically, we’re having a show later, we have some new stuff, we’d love for you to stop by. It’s free admission,” Quinn said.  
  
“Sounds good, I’ll see what time I get out of here,” Rowan said. “How’d your finals go over at the university?”  
  
“Oh, you know, we haven’t slept for a week, our bodies are probably about eighty percent coffee, but we’ll be fine,” Nicolette said. “We saw your piece, by the way! The guy is super cute, I like your interpretation, it’s very modern but like, without losing the sort of fantasy element, you know? I just love your stories, Rowan, I can’t wait to see what you do with this character.”  
  
“It’s really nice,” Quinn said, nodding along, a small smile pulling at his lips as his girlfriend rambled.  
  
“Thank you! It’s really nice you guys came down to see it,” Rowan said.  
  
“Yes, well, about that,” Quinn said hesitantly.  
  
“Danny might have overheard us mentioning we’d be coming,” Nicolette said sheepishly. Rowan groaned and Jack furrowed his brow. “I don’t know if he actually will be showing up or not, but…”  
  
“But if he does, don’t be too surprised,” Quinn smiled nervously.  
  
“Thanks for the heads up,” Rowan said.  
  
“He shouldn’t be at the coffee shop later considering that our music scares him,” Nicolette assured her.  
  
“Our rhythm guitarist scares him too,” Quinn added.  
  
“Teddy has that effect on people,” Rowan nodded before draining the rest of the water in her glass.  
  
“We’re gonna go see some more of the pieces though, if you want to come with us or I guess we’ll see you at the awards ceremony? That starts in like twenty minutes, right?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, they should be opening the doors for the auditorium soon,” Rowan said. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”  
  
The couple walked off and Rowan wandered off toward the entrance of the gallery. A very small hallway lead to a door that read “Employees Only,” and this is where she chose to tuck herself away, lips pursed and clearly irritated. Jack followed her, leaning against the opposite wall.  
  
“He might not show up,” he told her.  
  
“I just want one goddamn night I don’t have to worry about anything and now my ex-boyfriend might finally decide to take an interest in art? This is so  _typical,_ ” she groaned.  
  
“Where’d you find those musicians anyway?” Jack asked, hoping that maybe if he changed the subject, it would ease her mind.  
  
“Nicolette and Quinn? Oh, Danny somehow conned them into a double date with us last year, they go to college with him, studying business. Or, I guess Quinn is double majoring in business and something complicated and mathematical,” she said. “They were so happy when I dumped him, said they didn’t have to pretend to be nice anymore.”  
  
“You know,” Jack said, reaching forward and flicking some of her bangs from her face.  _“Right now_ , he’s not here. And there’s no reason to hide over here and let the  _possibility_  of him showing up ruin your evening. Besides, you still need to show me your piece.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed after mulling over his words for a moment, straightening her stance. “Come on, it’s through this way.”  
  
Rowan walked toward a room in the gallery they had yet to visit, careful to walk around some professors that appeared to have already had quite a bit of wine, and some students who were enjoying this thoroughly. Jack walked alongside Rowan, wincing as several other people in the gallery walked straight through him. It was never a nice thing to experience. Especially after spending so much time around believers recently.  
  
“That’s super weird,” Rowan muttered to him as someone else passed through him.  
  
“Tell me about it,” Jack said as they approached the far wall of the gallery.  
  
“Well, here’s my piece,” she said to him, after being sure that no one else was in immediate earshot. “Hope you like it.”  
  
Jack took a few steps past her to properly see the piece mounted on the wall, a grin coming to his face as soon as he got a good look. The card beneath the piece read: “Jack Frost – Character Design,” with “Rowan Sawyer – Illustration” in smaller font beneath it.  
  
There were five full-body drawings of Jack in the piece. Each drawing was rotated slightly from the one before it in order to allow the viewer to get the best idea of what he looked like. Jack was posed with one hand in his pocket and the other grasping his staff, a mischievous smirk on his face.  
  
Beside the full-body drawings was a portrait featuring the same smirk. She had gotten each detail correct, down to the stitching on his hoodie and the angles of the grooves in his staff. He’d gotten so many drawings from kids the past few months, but none as intricate and lovely as this.  
  
Turning away from the piece, he found Rowan watching him expectantly, biting her lip.  
  
“This is great! You’ve got me down perfect,” he said with a grin, looking back at the piece. “What did you do this with, the computer? You even got the shade of blue right, and my staff, and-! You’re really observant, aren’t you? It’s a little creepy, but this is  _really_  good, Rowan.”  
  
“I’m really glad you like it,” she whispered, a grin on her face.  
  
“I want to see the other ones you’ve done of me,” Jack said.  
  
Before Rowan could respond, it seemed that something caught her eye somewhere behind Jack, her face falling. Jack turned to see a boy that looked quite out of place. He appeared to be looking for someone and was paying no mind to the artwork whatsoever.  
  
He was a good-looking boy, with hazel eyes and sandy hair. He was tall, thin, and scruffy, as though he only shaved when he managed to remember. While Jack had never met him, he had to assume that this was the infamous Danny.  
  
“Come on,” Rowan said, slipping out the nearby back door as she pulled her coat on. Jack followed close behind, hoping the lights outside the building and in the parking lot would be adequate in keeping any lurking Shadow People away, at least for a while. They had been very lucky the past few nights.  
  
“I can’t believe he actually showed up,” she grumbled, leaning against the nearby railing.  
  
“Yeah but it doesn’t look like he saw you, so,” Jack said with a slight shrug. “You’re really against talking to this guy, aren’t you?”  
  
“I had to break up with him with a letter because he would have given me a guilt trip otherwise,” Rowan said, rolling her eyes and pulling her coat tighter around her form.  
  
“Sounds charming,” Jack said.  
  
“He shouldn’t stick around too long, I’ll go back inside in a minute,” Rowan said. She paused, looking back to Jack before saying, “So you really like the piece? I mean, I know it’s not really much of a character  _design_  seeing as I just drew you as you are… but I had started sketching you after we met and that sheet is what I wound up with.”  
  
“Yeah! I mean, I’m obviously bias but it’s my favorite one in there,” Jack said. “And like I said, I want to see the other ones.”  
  
“I’ll show them to you,” she said, nodding. “I haven’t had much chance to sit down and do any sketches the past couple days but maybe when I get home I’ll do some more.”  
  
“The past couple days have been, well,” Jack said, struggling to find the proper adjective.  
  
“Anxiety-inducing,” Rowan said.  
  
“Yeah, that works,” Jack smiled. He watched as she pulled her lipstick-clad lips into a smile as well, and once more found himself thinking of that kiss on the cheek. Maybe it was a friendly thing. Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all. Maybe it hadn’t _happened_  at all.  
  
“Rowan! There you are,” Shirley said, walking outside, shivering the whole way. “They’re about to start the awards ceremony. Did you see Danny in there?”  
  
“Ugh, yes, is he still there?” Rowan asked.  
  
“No, no, I told him you weren’t here. Then of course, he’s like ‘but Shirley, I saw her car in the parking lot.’ So I was like ‘Well, Adam and I had to borrow it because his is a death trap, so go away,’ and there were a few more words exchanged, I wasn’t very nice, and then he finally left,” Shirley explained. Rowan laughed slightly.  
  
“Thanks for that,” she said.  
  
“Anytime,” Shirley said with a shrug.  
  
“Do you happen to know what he wanted?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Oh! He wants you to start proof reading his assignments again, I told him to get a goddamn tutor,” Shirley rolled her eyes.  
  
“Seriously?” Rowan said, shaking her head slightly.  
  
“Yeah. But come on, Adam’s saving us seats.”  
  
“I’ll be there in a second,” Rowan said. Shirley nodded and slipped back inside, rubbing her arms for warmth as she went. Rowan turned back to Jack and said, “Things like that are why I’m friends with her.”  
  
“Can’t argue with the results,” Jack said. He watched her for a moment, once more debating over whether or not he should ask her about the other night. Whether or not he should do  _anything_  about it.  
  
“Hey, um, good luck as far as the awards go,” he said at last. Rowan opened her mouth to respond and he was sure she was about to insist again that she wouldn’t win anything. The action he took to prevent her from uttering such self-doubt was hasty and not thought out in the least. Leaning forward, he swiftly kissed her cheek, leaving her with a surprised expression and a blush creeping up her cheeks.  
  
“Um, thanks,” she finally said, a silly smile coming to her face as she pushed the door open and lead the way inside.  
  
The auditorium wasn’t the largest, but it served its purpose for those who had actually bothered to show up to the opening ceremony instead of immediately rushing home to their families or beginning hibernation, both of which were understandable reactions to the semester ending.  
  
Rowan sat beside Shirley, at the end of a row of seats. A few seats down, Nicolette was babbling to Adam about something or another. Jack settled himself down on the floor in the aisle beside Rowan, wincing as a few people looking for seats walked through him. Rowan reached over and ruffled his hair briefly, as though to assure him that  _she_  still knew he was there. He swatted at her hand, grinning.  
  
The ceremony started with words from the school president and dean of students. Each department had awards to give, presented by the department chair. Each name was met with enthusiastic cheers from their respective department and polite applause from everyone else.   
  
“… And first prize for Fine Art goes to Henry Ipster for ‘Untitled,’” announced the plump and cheerful chair of fine art. The projection screen displayed the strange sculpture they had been looking at earlier.  
  
 _“Really?”_  Jack and Rowan said at once, though Rowan was still clapping politely.  
  
“Well,  _someone_  understood it,” Shirley said.  
  
“Either that or they’re pretending they did,” Jack said. Rowan couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
When the chair of illustration made his way onstage, a stout man with glasses and perhaps the tackiest patterned pants in existence, he seemed to receive the greatest amount of applause thus far.  
  
“We’ll start with the Illustration Department’s Honorable Mention,” the bespectacled man said, “Rowan Sawyer, for ‘Jack Frost - Character Design.’”  
  
Rowan’s name appeared on the projection screen, along with her drawing. She remained seated, staring at the screen in confusion as those around her began to cheer for her.  
  
“… that’s me,” she mumbled in disbelief.   
  
“That’s you, go up there!” Shirley laughed, shoving Rowan out of her seat. Jack pulled himself to his feet to avoid tripping her, putting his hands together for her as well. She cast a nervous smile in his direction before climbing the stairs to the stage. She shook hands with the department chair before being handed a certificate and returning to her seat.  
  
“Honorable mention!” cheered Adam as Rowan rejoined them.  
  
“You should’ve placed but this is still great,” Shirley said, pulling Rowan into a hug.  
  
“And here you were saying you wouldn’t win anything,” Jack smirked. “Though  _technically_  I’d say half of that certificate is mine.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Rowan mouthed to him as soon as Shirley released her from her grasp.  
  
Third, second and first place were each awarded, met with cheers and standing ovations from the row Jack was seated beside, though Rowan seemed to be unable to resist examining her certificate between cheers.  
  
“Yeah, like we didn’t know that Jill was going to walk away with first place,” Shirley said to Rowan as they settled back in their seats at last.  
  
“Thank god she’s graduating, give the rest of us a chance,” Rowan replied.  
  
“I bet you’ll place next time since you were able to snag the mention this time,” Adam said.  
  
“Wait until Jack finds out that he inspired you to become an award winner,” Shirley teased.  
  
“Oh, I don’t think he needs the ego boost,” Rowan said, casting a glance toward Jack, who simply smirked in response.  
  
It wasn’t long until the ceremony came to an end and the audience was encouraged to continue browsing the art. Everyone began to exit the auditorium, some lingering outside to speak with professors or those who had won. Rowan pulled her coat back on as their group shuffled outside, Quinn and Nicolette quickly bidding farewells as they had to go prepare for their show.  
  
“Are you gonna go see them perform?” Shirley asked Rowan after the pair had left.  
  
“I’m thinking about it,” Rowan said.  
  
“Well, I think we’re going mostly for the coffee,” Adam said. “Gotta put something in my body that’s not wine.”  
  
“How many glasses did you have?” Rowan asked.  
  
“I think I’m still good to drive,” he said.  
  
“You  _think?”_  
  
“I’m pretty confident,” Adam said, spreading his arms and beginning to walk heel-to-toe in a straight line as though his sobriety was being tested right that moment.  
  
“I don’t know, you’re an unusually graceful drunk,” Rowan said skeptically.  
  
“Eh, by the time his car warms up we’ll be plenty sober,” Shirley said with a shrug.  
  
“Truth, we’d better go start it,” Adam said, sliding his arm around Shirley’s shoulders as his mock-sobriety-test ended with him beside her. “Anyway we were going to head to the coffee shop before the show starts so we could eat, did you want to come, Rowan?”  
  
“I’m not really hungry, I think I’ll just catch up with you guys later,” she said.  
  
“All right, see you around!” Shirley said as the pair started off toward the parking lot.  
  
“You could’ve gone with them, I don’t mind lurking around,” Jack said. Rowan shook her head.  
  
“I love them, but I can only handle hanging around the two of them together so much, you know? They’re so… couple-y sometimes,” she said, making a face. “Do you want to go to the show later?”  
  
“I got nothing else to do,” Jack said with a shrug as they began walking toward another parking lot where Rowan had parked her jeep. “What kind of music is it?”  
  
“It’s sort of horror-punk, I’m curious about how they’re going to do it acoustically. But Nicolette’s got such a pretty voice, she could probably pull off singing the phonebook.”  
  
“Judging by the way she talked, she seems to have decent lungs, anyway.”  
  
“Ha! She does. Anyway, thanks again for coming with me, Jack, I know art shows aren’t everyone’s definition of fun,” Rowan said.  
  
“I had a great time,” he assured her as she unlocked her car. He slid into the passenger seat after quickly glancing around to be sure that no one would question her passenger-side door suddenly opening and closing on its own.  
  
Rowan settled herself in the driver’s seat, starting her car so that it could warm up. “Still, I appreciate it. This night has been downright  _normal_.”


	22. Dancing With Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics in this chapter were written by yours truly! A few years ago, yes. But still, I wrote them and I hope you enjoy them.

_Doctor, Doctor, pick up the damn phone.  I’m dancing with disaster and he says hello._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Dancing With Disaster**

* * *

  
  
Rowan had fiddled with her car’s CD player as she and Jack waited for the vehicle to warm up, playing a homemade demo disc that had been given to her by her musician friends a few weeks earlier. It had been marked up with a permanent marker and included a doodle of a cartoon vampire done by one of the guitarists.  
  
“She does have a nice voice, and the music’s good, but  _man,_  these lyrics are depressing, have they been having tea with Melpomene or something?” Jack said as he listened.  
  
 _Tight straightjacket, distorting my silhouette; these buckles have lost their charm, this feeling’s hard to forget._  
  
“They’re incredibly unlucky people, you wouldn’t believe half their stories,” Rowan smiled softly.  
  
 _Forget that you’re in love. Forget that I’m in doubt. Break out the medication and please just knock me out._  
  
“Ah, but have they ever had Shadow People trying to kill them?” Jack asked.  
  
“Doubt it,” Rowan said.  
  
“Then I think you probably win,” he said.  
  
 _Doctor, Doctor, please pick up the phone. I’m losing myself and I’m sure it shows. Doctor, Doctor, please pick up the phone. I’m losing myself, and I’m sure it shows._  
  
“Oh good, first the honorable mention and now ‘most unfortunate, unbelievable life event.’ I’m winning all over the place tonight,” she laughed, folding her arms before her and resting them against her steering wheel. Glancing back in his direction, her mind wandered back to just before the awards ceremony, when he’d kissed her on the cheek.  
  
It had to have been a platonic thing, right? A good-luck sort of thing. But she had never found Jack to be quite so casual with things like that before. This was when she remembered that it actually hadn’t been very long that they’d known each other. Why did it feel like it had been years?  
  
 _Lobotomy. Tell me just what’s wrong with me. The ice picks kiss my lashes and then tell me what to be._  
  
“The honorable mention is half mine, don’t forget,” Jack smirked, fiddling with the levers on the side of his seat, reclining it for a moment before setting it back upright.  
  
“All right, all right, one-and-a-half wins for me, then,” Rowan said.  
  
 _Tell me that we’re in love. Tell me I shouldn’t doubt. Break out the medication and please just knock me out._  
  
“Is that light flickering?” Jack said, suddenly distracted. He was glancing out the windshield and pointing toward one of the lights situated in the parking lot. Rowan looked over, finding that the light had, indeed, begun to violently flicker.  
  
“Yeah, that’s weird,” Rowan said.  
  
“Turn your headlights on,” he said.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Just do it.”  
  
 _Doctor, Doctor, please pick up the phone. I’m losing myself and I’m sure it shows. Doctor, Doctor, please pick up the phone. I’m losing myself, and I’m sure it shows._  
  
“I don’t like when you get all ominous.” Rowan reached for the dial on her dashboard, turning it until her headlights flashed on, pointing directly at the light in question. Dark figures quickly darted away and the light stopped flickering, though shined dimmer than before.  
  
“Were those Shadow People?” Rowan asked, panic clear in her voice. She could feel her pulse beginning to quicken.  
  
“Yes. Drive,” was Jack’s quick response. “Now. Get us out of this parking lot, keep your lights on.”  
  
“Oh, good idea. I was just planning on driving around blindly in the dark,” she replied sarcastically, putting her car in reverse with shaking hands before pulling out of her parking spot, a guitar solo pulsing through her stereo speakers as she sped out of the lot.  
  
“Go somewhere well-lit if you can,” Jack said, eyes fixed on the back window.  
  
“Jack, it’s the middle of the night,” Rowan replied, turning down a neighborhood that thankfully had quite a bit of streetlights. “This is as light as it’s gonna get unless someone sets something on fire.”  
  
Jack reached forward and pressed down on her car’s never-used cigarette lighter, the small indicator light beside it illuminating.  
  
“I was being facetious,” Rowan said, careful to keep her attention on the road. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She had been fearful of running into Shadow People ever since the meeting a few nights ago, but didn’t think it would be tonight. Her knuckles were white, gripping the steering wheel for dear life in order to keep her hands from shaking.  
  
“It’s a back-up plan,” Jack said, keeping his gaze behind them.  
  
“Can you come up with a back-up plan that won’t get me arrested for arson? Shit!” Rowan’s tires screeched as her foot collided with the break pedal, something moving straight ahead and the streetlights flickering.   
  
 _Doctor, Doctor, please pick up the phone. I have nowhere else to turn and I know you know._    
  
At the sudden stop, Jack crashed into her dashboard with a groan. Rowan quickly shifted into reverse and sped backward, turning to look out the back window now.  
  
“I thought you were all about seat belts,” she commented, backing over the sidewalk and part of someone’s lawn before shifting back into drive and speeding off down another street.  
  
 _Doctor, Doctor, pick up the damn phone. I’m dancing with disaster and he says hello._  
  
“How the hell did you pass your driving test?” Jack asked, finally steadying himself and beginning to roll down the window.  
  
“I’m sorry, we didn’t go over avoiding dark mythical creatures in driver’s ed,” Rowan replied as the boy began climbing out the window and onto the roof of her car.  
  
“Just keep driving,” he called, and in the next moment bright blue light was being reflected in her mirrors as Jack attempted to ward off any pursuing shadows. She turned down another street, finding that the lights were beginning to go out on the path they’d been following. Another sharp turn, this time to avoid hitting an oncoming car, which blasted its horn at her as she went.  
  
 _Doctor, Doctor, don’t hang up the phone. I’ve just lost myself and I know it shows._  
  
As the last lingering notes of the song rang out, every light on the street, including those in the surrounding homes, began to flicker until one by one, they went out. The darkness was quickly catching up with them, and Rowan swore she saw more shifting shadows up ahead.  
  
There wasn’t anywhere left to turn, not for a while.  
  
“Just keep driving, I’ll figure this out,” Jack said. The nerves in his voice were not helping to calm hers at all. As the last of the streetlights went out, Rowan reached forward and turned her fog lights on. Speeding onward, she found several shadows darting out of her way, while some collided with her car with a sickening  _crack_ , their forms quickly taking the shape of the hood and reaching for the windshield. Her headlights began to dim and she reached for the dial again, clicking it back and forth until they returned to their former brightness.   
  
Jack brought his staff crashing down on the hood of her car, bringing a burst of blue light with it. Rowan found herself slamming on the break pedal as she shielded her eyes from the light. There was a crash as Jack stumbled onto her hood, and when she moved her hands from her eyes, she found her headlights brightly illuminated, the dark figures gone and the surrounding darkness still and quiet. She also found Jack sliding off the hood and onto the street.  
  
Quickly shifting into park, Rowan climbed out of her car and rushed over to the front of it where Jack had fallen, not bothering to close the car door behind her.  
  
“Are you okay?” she asked, kneeling down next to him, trembling the whole way. “I know you told me to keep driving but I couldn’t  _see_  anything and… are you okay?”  
  
“Well, running over the Shadow People with a car is a strategy we hadn’t tested quite yet,” Jack groaned, pulling himself into a seated position. “I’m gonna have some bruises but I should be fine. Are  _you_  okay?”  
  
“Well once I’m done with my heart attack I should be great,” she said with an exhausted smile, standing up and offering him a hand, which he gladly took. “So, are they gone?”  
  
“The ones that weren’t destroyed are probably hiding now,” Jack said, dusting himself off after she helped him back to his feet. “It’s probably a good thing you had planned to leave the state tomorrow.”  
  
“Did they figure out who I am?” she asked.  
  
“I don’t know if that’s why they attacked initially… but they have to know now, they had to have sensed it,” Jack said. “Hopefully they won’t try anything else tonight.”  
  
“So much for not worrying about them tonight,” she groaned, walking back to the side of her car so she could climb back inside. Jack simply flew back through the window he’d left open before rolling it back up.  
  
Rowan’s phone let out a short tone, the screen illuminating. She reached for the small electronic, finding a new text message.  
  
“From Nicolette: ‘Hey guys, show’s cancelled due to power outage. We offered to rock out in candlelight but the coffee shop wouldn’t go for it. We’ll hopefully catch you all next time.’ Well, now I don’t have to feel bad about ditching that. ‘I couldn’t make it because I was too shaken up after being chased by Shadow People’ sounds like a made-up excuse,” Rowan sighed, setting her phone aside and shifting back into drive.   
  
“What is it they say? The truth is stranger than fiction?” Jack said, pulling at his seatbelt and fastening it.  
  
“The truth will also put me in a mental institution,” Rowan sighed. “What do we do now that they’ve found me?”  
  
“We’ll go to your parents’ house tomorrow like you planned, they might not catch on if we move during the day. Then I’m probably going to have to talk to North, we have some stuff to sort out,” Jack said.  
  
“So… just the same shit we’ve been doing?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Until we figure out something else.”

* * *

  
  
It had taken Erato and her moonbeam entirely too long to find the tunnel entrance to the lair. It wasn’t even much of a tunnel as much as it was a sort of mineshaft waiting for someone unsuspecting to fall straight down it. The moonbeam circled the hole in the ground before lurking near Erato once more.  
  
“Oh don’t look at me that way,” she said to the moonbeam as she examined the hole in the faint light of the crescent moon. It seemed to go on forever, a bottomless pit of darkness. Lightly, she kicked at a pebble, watching it fall down the abyss. “I know this is a bad idea, jumping down the rabbit hole when I know something darker than Wonderland awaits me. But I need to do  _something._  Surely you understand that?”  
  
The moonbeam didn’t respond. Erato wasn’t sure it would have even if it had means to speak in the first place. Taking a deep breath, Erato stepped forward, closing her eyes as she began her fall, wishing more than ever that she had been one of the Muses gifted with flight. Perhaps she could work out a deal with Clio to get her own pair of wings. Her moonbeam darted after her.  
  
Before she could make a crash landing, she was caught by a magnificent wave of sparkling black sand, which cushioned her fall and dragged her through a narrow tunnel, through a room with many elegant birdcages hanging from the ceiling. The sand finally disappeared after setting her back on her feet near the globe, tall and illuminated.  
  
“That’s a nice trick,” Erato commented, brushing the sand that still clung to her skirt away.  
  
“Thank you,” said Pitch, turning away from the globe and greeting the Muse with a smile.  
  
“So glad you could make it, Erato,” Melpomene said.  
  
“Like I said, Calliope never learns I was here,” the older Muse said, running her fingers over her hair, tucking away strands that had come loose during her mad ride into the lair. “She expects this sort of thing from you, not me.”  
  
“I won’t tell her, but she’s well aware that romance and tragedy go hand-in-hand,” Melpomene said with a shrug.  
  
“Yes, you two do  _excellent_  collaborative work,” Pitch commented.  
  
“Is that why you’ve called me here? I thought this was about the Shadow People,” Erato said.  
  
“It is. You know we need Pitch’s help, you are the only other Muse to voice as much,” Melpomene said.  
  
“Yes, well, you know how Nicholas and Calliope feel about that option,” said Erato, beginning to walk around the globe and examine her surroundings.  
  
“This isn’t a dictatorship, they do not get to make decisions  _for_  us.”  
  
“So what? You want to call a vote?” Erato said, stopping to look back at the duo.  
  
“Exactly,” Pitch said. “We’re working on swaying the Guardian vote, but as this concerns the alliance as a whole, the majority of the Muses must vote in favor as well. We need your help with them.”  
  
“Do not forget Tsar Lunar and Apollo, they each cast a vote as well,” Erato said. “I’m not sure if you two can win this democratically, if I’m being completely honest. Unless your little  _boyfriend_  feels like handing over the information for free, that is.”  
  
“Not happening,” Pitch said immediately, not bothering to respond to the “boyfriend” comment.  
  
“I figured as much, it would be far too easy,” Erato yawned.   
  
“Tsar Lunar will vote with us,” Melpomene said. “Of that I am certain.”  
  
“How can you be so sure he won’t vote against you just to spite you, Mel? Urania said he’s  _furious_  with you,” Erato said. “Why must you bite the hand that feeds us?”  
  
“Everyone expects the worst of me,” Melpomene said simply. “Why shouldn’t I give them what they want?”  
  
“Times like this I remember that you are forever a teenager,” Erato shook her head disapprovingly.  
  
“The Man in the Moon is unwilling to let this go much further without intervention,” Pitch said. “I am fairly confident he will vote with us, but we must get as many Muses on our side as possible, as a cushion.”  
  
“And you want me to talk to them,” Erato said.  
  
“Thalia is the only one that listens to me,” Melpomene said.  
  
“I wonder  _why_  that is,” Erato said sarcastically. She sighed, mentally going over the other Muses in her mind. “I can tell you right now I won’t be able to sway Calliope or Polyhymnia, I won’t even bother with them.”  
  
“We doubted that they would join us,” Pitch said.  
  
“What about Clio? Urania?” Melpomene asked.  
  
“I might be able to convince Urania. I think she’s overwhelmed from all the cryptic information the stars have given her; she probably wants answers from someone on  _this_  planet. Clio… perhaps. I think we’d be better off relying on Euterpe and Terpsichore. They have only their moonbeams as a means of protection, Pitch’s information could settle their nerves.”  
  
“So, with you, me, Thalia, Euterpe and Terpsichore, that would be a majority for the Muses,” Melpomene said.  
  
“Provided that Apollo and Tsar Lunar don’t vote against us. Then there’s still the matter of the Guardians,” said Erato. “Nicholas _will_  vote against this.”  
  
“As will Bunnymund,” Melpomene said. “We’ve set our focus on Jack.”  
  
“You need at least three votes from the Guardians,” Erato said, holding up three fingers for emphasis.  
  
“Jack’s vote should sway the other two,” Pitch said.  
  
“You seem to have forgotten how the voting works,” Erato said. “We vote Guardians first, then Muses, in the order in which we obtained our titles. This means that Jack will be the last Guardian to vote. Tooth and Sanderson will not have his vote to take into consideration before casting their own. Now, I can work on Tooth, but Calliope will  _kill_  me if she finds me trying to turn Sanderson against her. Not to mention, he’d be the most justified in  _not_ voting in your favor.”  
  
“Thankfully, that ball of sand isn’t one for grudges,” Melpomene said. “We’ll have to get Jack to speak with him for us, or get him to speak before the vote begins.”  
  
Erato laughed. “How exactly do you plan on doing that, Mel? That boy wants nothing to do with you! And quite frankly, I don’t blame him. You really put him through the ringer all those years ago.”  
  
“We’ve been working on him, he’s already fearful and considering outside help,” Melpomene said. Erato’s face fell.  
  
“What the hell do you  _mean_  you’ve ‘been working on him?’ Is that why Tsar Lunar is so angry with you? Mel, if the Guardians find out that you’ve been manipulating him, that you’ve been helping  _Pitch_  manipulate him…” Erato said, fury clear in her voice.  
  
“Pitch hasn’t laid a finger on Jack and as far as  _you_  and the rest of the alliance is aware, he’s still in hiding,” Melpomene said. “As far as Jack and I? That predates his involvement in this alliance.”  
  
“Yes, but  _now he is part of it._  We are not supposed to be fighting  _each other_ , Mel.”  
  
“It’s for the greater good of the Muses,  _Erato,”_  Melpomene snapped. “Isn’t that why you agreed to work with us?”  
  
“We push him and the Mortal Muse together and scare them until he fears so much for her safety that he’s willing to even accept help from me,” Pitch explained.  
  
“Oh good, you told him about the Mortal Muse too. I suppose I’m expected to keep that secret as well?” Erato said, teeth clenched.  
  
“Yes,” Melpomene said. “If you try to take me down I’ll drag you with me,  _sister.”_  
  
Erato sighed, crossing her arms before her chest in frustration. “So you’re trying to use their feelings for each other against them, then.”  
  
“They’re making it quite easy. Though, you could always help us with  _that_  as well. People do insane things in the name of love, after all,” Pitch said.  
  
“What, you want me to manipulate their thoughts until they believe they’re in love with each other?” Erato said, insulted. “Absolutely not, do what you must with whatever feelings that  _already exist_. You know if I compel anyone to fall in love, rather than compelling them to create or act based on  _already existing_  love, Cupid will be furious with me for interfering with his work. Besides, I work better with lust.”  
  
“Well, that brings us to our next inquiry. Perhaps you can speak to Cupid for us,” Melpomene said. “If anyone can persuade him to lend a helping hand, surely it would be you.”  
  
“No,” Erato said firmly. “You are not involving Cupid in your little scheme, I will not have the two of you jeopardizing my relationship with him just so you can manipulate Jack Frost.”  
  
“Fine, fine, Erato, it was worth a shot,” Melpomene said. “It wasn’t as though we  _needed_  him anyway, it was just for the sake of extra insurance.”  
  
“I do not want him involved in this Shadow Person nonsense  _at all._  Or I will expose what the both of you have been doing this whole time.”  
  
“No harm will come to your boy from us,” Pitch said.  
  
“I will hold you to that,” Erato said, setting her hands to her hips and straightening her posture. “Now before the two of you ask anything else of me, let me just say this: I do not want to know what you’ve been doing to Jack Frost. I must only advise you not to harm him, or there will be consequences to face from the Guardians. I am willing to speak with the other Muses and Tooth for you  _only because_  we need Pitch’s information in order to eliminate this threat. I do not condone the two of you scheming together, nor do I condone you manipulating the members of our alliance to get your way. If what you’ve been doing comes out, I  _will_  claim ignorance and they  _will_  take my word over yours.”  
  
“You are positively evil sometimes,” Melpomene said, though she seemed impressed with the older Muse.  
  
“Sometimes it is necessary,” Erato said. “Are we through here?”  
  
“Yes, I believe so,” Pitch said, offering Erato a small, gracious bow. “Thank you for meeting with us, your help is  _greatly_ appreciated.”  
  
“Don’t thank me yet, the votes have yet to be cast,” Erato pointed out. “Now, Melpomene, if you would be so kind as to drop me off in Paris?”  
  
“As you wish,” Melpomene said, setting her mask to her face after linking arms with the other Muse. In an instant, they were gone.

* * *

  
  
Rowan cursed under her breath as her key jabbed at the outer edge of the lock yet again. Her hands were shaking terribly, and she had already attempted to slide the key in the lock several times without success. Jack stood beside her, watching with furrowed brow before shifting his staff from his right hand to his left.  
  
He reached for her hand, taking it in his to steady it as she shivered slightly, feeling goosebumps rush up her arm. With his help, she finally got the key in the lock and turned it. Once the key was removed from the lock again, he released her hand from his grasp and she opened the door. She flipped the light switch, sighing in relief when the lights came on. She tugged at her peacoat, pulling it off and sliding it onto the hook.  
  
“You’ve got a tear in your sleeve,” Rowan said as Jack passed her. He looked down, twisting his right arm before finding the fabric at his elbow torn.   
  
“I guess I should be glad that’s the worst that happened considering I  _fell off a car_. Must’ve snagged on the way down,” he said with a sigh, propping his staff against the wall. “Happen to have a needle and thread?”  
  
“Yeah, let me find it,” she said, setting her keys down on the table. She fumbled through a storage box in the corner, heart still pounding in her ears. She couldn’t shake the image of those shadows from her mind. With shaking hands, she pulled out a small sewing kit and began to look through it. She pulled out a spool of blue thread and held it against him to compare the shades of blue to each other.   
  
“This should work,” she said. He took the thread and set it on the table. “I just need to find a needle now, one second.”  
  
After pricking her fingers several times on what turned out to be a pin rather than a needle, she was able to locate one tucked away in a scrap piece of fabric. As she removed the needle, she glanced back up and couldn’t help but pause at what she saw, all thoughts of Shadow People wiped from her mind.  
  
Jack had removed his jacket, turning it inside out in preparation for the stitch job and laying it on the table. Currently, he was unraveling the spool of thread until he was satisfied he had enough to complete the job, pulling the thread to his mouth and severing it with his teeth.  
  
This was not what distracted Rowan, however, but the fact that Jack did not wear anything under his jacket. It seemed logical enough, he probably just wore the hoodie for the sake of coverage as he didn’t need it for warmth. But Jack’s body temperature was the last thing on her mind, rather the fact that he was just…  _not wearing his jacket._  
  
He was lean and toned, much like a swimmer. She hadn’t expected any indication of muscle, as “malnourished” was the first word she’d think to use when describing the boy’s body before. To say she was taken by surprise was an understatement.  
  
“I, uh, found the needle,” she said, forcing her gaze back to his face.  
  
“Thanks,” he said, gently taking the needle from her grasp and carefully attempting to thread it. After one or two failed attempts, he was able to slide the thread through, tying the end before taking a seat at the table, pulling over his jacket to begin mending the tear.  
  
“Do you, uh, sew a lot?” she asked. When he had asked for the needle and thread, she had honestly expected him to ask  _her_ to fix his jacket.  
  
“If you’re asking if I do needlepoint for fun, no,” he said, eyes fixed on his task. “But it comes in handy sometimes.”  
  
“Right, I’m sure,” she said, eyes wandering back to his torso now that he was otherwise distracted. She shook her head slightly, “I’ll be back.”  
  
Slipping into the bathroom, Rowan locked the door behind her and turned on the light, burring her face in her hands and groaning softly. “They had to assign the cute one to guard me, didn’t they? The one with the secret abs.  _Of course._ ”  
  
Turning the faucet and pulling her hair back into an elastic, she realized that she had just admitted that Jack was cute. Had he heard  _anything_  she had just mumbled to herself in frustration, she would never hear the end of it.  
  
As she lathered face wash into her cheeks, scrubbing away the makeup she had applied so meticulously earlier, she tried reminding herself that Jack was over three hundred years old. As in, way older than even her thrice-great grandfather who was long since dead. Older than electricity, older than the building they were in, older than  _old_. Did she really find someone older than her  _father_  attractive?  
  
Yes, yes she did. Rowan winced, finding that this line of thinking was not helping her at all. Yes, Jack was old as all hell but he _looked_  like an eighteen-year-old and acted like a peer. Most of the time she forgot that there was such an age difference between them. The only indications of his age were the very faint lines around his eyes and the stories he had to tell from centuries ago.  
  
Rinsing the soap from her face, she sighed in frustration. She could  _not_  start liking Jack Frost that way. It was simply not an option. No matter how nice his eyes or his stomach or his  _being_  in general were to look at. He was immortal, she was not, and she had no desire to be. Any relationship would be doomed from the start.  
  
As if a relationship was even an option, there was nothing to suggest that Jack returned her feelings. Well, except for that kiss on the cheek. And the way he had cradled her in his arms after she dreamt of drowning. And the fact that he had slept at her bedside the past few nights.  
  
He made her laugh, he made her forget about her worries, he made her feel safe. She’d never met a boy she could argue with and still end up smiling.  
  
Patting her face dry with a towel, she shook her head. No! No, no,  _no._  This was all  _obviously_  a result of the crazy situation they were in. They were mistaking adrenaline and fear as some kind of chemistry. This was  _not_  a teen fantasy novel where the awkward-but-somehow-special human girl pairs off with the supernatural hottie with no regard to logic.  
  
“Yeah, sure it’s not, Mortal Muse,” she mumbled to herself, pulling the elastic from her hair and unraveling the braid she’d fastened earlier.  
  
She would have to just stop liking Jack. There was absolutely no reason to complicate things further by mixing romance into it. Her silly little crush, her great enjoyment that came from seeing him shirtless, it all ended here. Right now. No more.  
  
Rowan nodded to herself shortly, her decision made, before stepping outside her bathroom. She found Jack with his jacket back on and mended, setting the spool of thread and needle back into her small sewing kit.  
  
He turned at the sound of the door opening and offered her a smile she couldn’t help returning. “Thanks again,” he said as she approached.  
  
“Of course,” she replied, tugging at his sleeve to test his stitches. “Looks like a sturdy job.”  
  
“It’ll do,” he shrugged. “You stopped shaking.”  
  
Glancing down at her hands, Rowan found that she had, in fact, stopped trembling. Her internal struggle over Jack not wearing a shirt had apparently been enough to at least make her forget about the Shadow People for a moment.  
  
“Well, look at that, I guess I did,” she said.  
  
“Don’t worry so much, we’re gonna figure this out,” he assured her with another smile. Why did he have to have such a nice smile? Not liking him was going to be harder than expected.  
  
“I’ll try,” she sighed.

* * *

  
  
Melpomene and Pitch both lingered atop the apartment building, like birds of prey, waiting and watching.  
  
“I don’t like this, Pitch, the lights are going out all over this town, they must have finally made their way over here from Burgess,” Melpomene said, her eyes fixed on the streets in the distance, some illuminated and others in darkness.  
  
“We will not be here long. Just enough for you to give Jack the idea to speak to Sandy and for  _me_  to give dear Rowan another nightmare,” Pitch said.  
  
“Well, check on them again, are they asleep yet?” Melpomene said. Pitch disappeared into the shadows, scaling the side of the building and glancing within the window. Melpomene walked to the edge of the roof in order to keep an eye on him until he returned to her side.  
  
“They are, finally. But it seems that Jack has taken to sleeping by her bedside, I doubt your disguise would do more than cause confusion now,” Pitch said. “We will have to work quickly, with caution. Mustn’t wake them.”  
  
“I only need a minute,” Melpomene said, fastening her mask to her face. “Let’s go.”


	23. Fools Rush In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Unfortunately no one is shirtless in this chapter but we do change locations and you get to learn more about Rowan and her family! There's also some fluff because who doesn't like a nice healthy dosage of fluff? Hope you enjoy.

_It had been the excuse he’d been using ever since the beginning.  At first, he believed it. _After all, he had been sure that she couldn’t see him.__

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Fools Rush In**

* * *

  
  
Rowan gently set the last of her bags in her car before pulling her phone from her pocket and fiddling with the screen. Yawning, she opened a list she had made on the device and began to read off the things she had done.  
  
“Turned off heat, locked apartment, warmed up car, packed bags, packed paintings Mom was asking about… I think I’m good,” she said, taking a moment to rub at her tired eyes, having woken up far earlier than intended due to a nightmare. “All that’s left is ‘come up with logical reason behind the new dent on the hood of my car because Dad won’t believe that Jack Frost did it.’”  
  
“I’m telling you, I can fly us there in like five minutes, tops,” Jack said, lying lazily on the top of her car, scanning the area for Shadow People.  
  
“Well, as soon as you come up with a good reason behind me and my luggage arriving at my parents’ house in record time _without_  my vehicle, I’d love to hear it,” Rowan said, closing the back of her car before strolling to the driver’s side.  
  
Jack opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it, considering this for a moment. If only the moon had granted him super strength, then he could just fly the car over as well. Of course then they’d have a very  _Chamber of Secrets_  situation in which they’d have to explain a flying car to the public. Nothing could ever be easy. “Yeah, okay, I guess we’re driving,” he said at last.  
  
“I guess so,” Rowan said, opening the car door. “You don’t have to come with me the whole way, you know, I mean, the sun’s coming up in about two hours.”  
  
“I know,” he said, sliding off of her car and climbing into the passenger seat. He was careful to buckle his seat belt this time, tugging on it to test its sturdiness. “It’ll just make me feel better if I know you got there safe.”  
  
“Well, thank you. No comments about my driving,” she said, fastening her own seatbelt and pulling out her MP3 player, plugging it in to an auxiliary cable. “Or my music.”  
  
“That’s going to be very difficult for me,” he said.  
  
“You’re going to have to try,” Rowan said as the music started and she turned on her headlights.  
  
“Maybe  _I_  should drive,” Jack suggested before Rowan had a chance to shift into gear.  
  
“Okay, which of the two of us: A, can be seen by law enforcement officials and the rest of the people who will be on the interstate, and B, has a driver’s license?” Rowan asked dryly.  
  
“You and your technicalities,” he smirked. “I’ve driven the  _sleigh_  before.”  
  
“I’m sure that’s very much like driving a car, what with the reindeer and everything,” she said, finally pulling out of her parking spot and heading for the road. After a beat, she asked, “So what’s the sleigh like?”  
  
“It’s really nice actually, which is probably why North hasn’t let me drive it since,” Jack said. “It’s got a really nice paint job. Red, of course. It’s really modern, streamlined, with this globe on the dashboard and- if we go back to the pole we’ll have to ask North if you can see it, he loves showing it off.”  
  
“I’d like that,” Rowan said, eyes fixed on the road. “Honestly, I wish I had a chance to really look around last time, it was just… overwhelming and the reason I was there sort of ruined it.”  
  
“Yeah, well, hopefully there won’t be much more bad news for a little while,” Jack said.  
  
“So how did it come up, anyway, you getting to drive the sleigh?”  
  
“Right, that. Well, it was when the Nightmares were storming the Tooth Palace, he handed me the reigns so he could focus on slicing through them with his swords,” Jack said. “Honestly, it was probably because I was the closest one to him at that moment.”  
  
“So how long did you actually get to drive it?” Rowan said with a slight smirk.  
  
“Like half a minute until I almost crashed it,” Jack said sheepishly.  
  
“And you make fun of  _my_  driving,” Rowan said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly as she signaled her intent to merge onto the interstate.  
  
“Hey, you try controlling eight reindeer. And I mean giant goddamn  _reindeer_ , not those happy forest Bambi deer,” he said. “I think I did pretty well.”  
  
“I’m going to bring this up now every time you make fun of my driving,” Rowan laughed. “‘Yeah? Well at least I didn’t almost crash Santa’s sleigh!’”  
  
 _“Almost,_ ” Jack emphasized, though he was laughing as well. “You feeling any better than you were earlier, by the way?”  
  
“Yeah, it was just that whole… drowning thing, again,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “Sorry for waking you. Again.”  
  
“I was just glad it wasn’t Shadow People, don’t worry about it, really,” he smiled. When he was certain she was entirely focused on the road, he slowly reached forward, eyes on the small MP3 player resting in one of the cup holders.  
  
“What are you doing?” she asked as he began to fiddle with the device.  
  
“Just seeing what you’ve got,” he said, running his fingers over the small electronic until he got the hang of scrolling through the menus. “Let’s see, never heard of them, never heard of them, don’t think that’s English, never heard of them… hmm…”  
  
“Just remember, I said no making fun of my music,” she said.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he said. His face lit up when he finally found an artist that he not only knew, but enjoyed. “Oh, we’re playing this,” he said, selecting the artist and reaching forward to turn the volume dial up just slightly.  
  
Leaning back in his seat, he smiled as “Heartbreak Hotel” came pulsing through the speakers, mouthing along to the words.  
  
“Elvis fan, hm?” Rowan asked.  
  
“The King was the greatest, I used to sneak into his shows all the time,” Jack said, smiling as he remembered attempting to style his unruly hair into a pompadour back then and failing most of the time. “The first real rock star, you know? Plus there were always lots of pretty girls at his shows.”  
  
“I’d love to go back in time and see some musicians… who else have you seen?”  
  
“Well, I saw Mozart, Beethoven, all those guys, way back when I was just getting started with this immortality business,” Jack said.  
  
“Did you happen to hear him perform ‘Moonlight Sonata’?”  
  
“Yeah, that one was intense.”  
  
“Oh God, that piece gives me chills,” Rowan sighed. “Who else?”  
  
“Oh I’m sure I’m gonna forget some,” Jack said, racking his mind. Three hundred years and you see a lot of musical acts come and go. “Sinatra, Crosby, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, the Les Paul Trio, The Andrews Sisters, Louis Armstrong, Dean Martin, Chet Baker, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bowie-”  
  
“I am going to fall over and die from jealousy. Did you ever see The Runways?”  
  
“Their singer pranced around stage in a corset, of course I did,” Jack laughed. “They were crazy. That was the first time I saw Van Halen, actually, when they opened for them. Saw Joan when she went solo, too, and Lita. It’s nice to see they’re still performing.”  
  
“Okay we have to stop talking about this or I’m going to start hating you,  _so jealous,”_  Rowan groaned.  
  
“Led Zeppelin, Bob Dylan, Michael Jackson, Guns ‘n Roses before it became the Axl Rose show, Queen, The Who, The Cure, the Smiths- okay I’ll stop here,” Jack smiled.  
  
“Some day, when my jealousy calms, I will ask you for details about every single one of them,” Rowan said.  
  
“I’ll tell you what I remember, some of them are blurs,” he said.  
  
“Looking forward to it,” she said, reaching for her coffee mug and taking a drink, eyes still fixed on the road. It was dark, and still would be for quite a while, but passing cars still served to illuminate Rowan’s face every few moments.  
  
For once, Jack was thankful for the darkness. If only because he certainly did not want it to be obvious that he was now watching her, with “Can’t Help Falling In Love” playing on the stereo as though The King was hoping to taunt him from beyond the grave.  
  
Earlier, when Rowan had woken with a start after another nightmare, waking him as well, he found himself pulling her into his arms yet again, though this time with far less hesitation. It seemed to be the only logical response now, almost instinct, to hold her as close as he could manage.  
  
She smelled like vanilla, and even in the time he had spent lurking her apartment, he hadn’t been able to figure out if this was due to some girly soap, perfume, or if she just somehow naturally gave off the sweet smell.   
  
Her hair was soft, her skin was soft, she fit so well in his arms. It was all so ridiculous, he almost found himself rolling his eyes at the thought. He’d always thought that it was nonsense, those movies and novels, songs even, that described just feeling  _right_  when with another person.   
  
Now he thought of Rowan fitting in his arms like a puzzle piece, like that somehow that was where she was just supposed to be. It was all so sappy and he was quite frankly embarrassed of himself for having such a thought.  
  
The fact was that he had known Rowan for approximately two weeks, if that. A lot had happened, certainly, but it had still been two weeks. Two weeks that had started off with a taser to the chest and her insisting that she didn’t trust him. Jack had been around for a long time; he’d watched a lot of people and a lot of relationships come and go. It made no sense that he cared about her this much. It made no sense to be secretly watching her from the passenger seat, remembering how soft her hair was as she absentmindedly fiddled with a strand of it.  
  
He remembered the roses he’d given her, what Bunny had told him.  _Courting a mortal is a terrible idea. It’s never_ not _a terrible idea._  
  
Oh but Bunny! He wasn’t courting a mortal! It was all about her stories! Rowan’s stories, not Rowan. Rowan’s drawings, not Rowan. It had nothing to do with the girl telling the stories, the way her eyes lit up as she spoke of pirates and witches, adventures and plot twists.  
  
It had been the excuse he’d been using ever since the beginning. At first, he believed it. After all, he had been sure that she couldn’t see him. Why even entertain the idea of being with a girl that literally didn’t know you existed?  
  
But then she did. Then he got her to laugh, to smile.  
  
And now here he was, listening to Elvis Presley sing about fools rushing in while watching this girl he’d known for less than a month in the poor lighting of the interstate.  
  
This girl that was in danger of having her soul consumed, with Jack currently being the only one standing between her and such a fate. The thought of failing scared him more than ever the more time he spent with her. All he wanted was to protect her, just as he had promised Jamie he would, but he wasn’t sure he could. He’d fought off the Shadow People the previous night, sure, but if they grew in numbers and continued their attacks, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it on his own.  
  
The new moon was less than a week away, Manny’s moonbeams would be useless if he needed assistance.  
  
He couldn’t do this alone. He wasn’t sure waiting until after Christmas for a solution was going to work. Especially if the Shadow People had figured out that Rowan was the target they’d been seeking, and something told Jack that they most definitely had.  
  
There was only one option, and Jack hated it. They’d have to ask Pitch for help, find out how to defeat the Shadow People  _now_.  
  
But North was understandably against this, and going behind the Guardians’ backs directly to Pitch would end in disaster. Ever since he’d woken up, however, in the back of his mind he somehow knew that he had to talk to Sandy. He was the oldest Guardian, arguably the most patient, and with the most experience when it came to the Muses and Pitch in general.  
  
Sandy would know what to do. Or, he’d at least point Jack in the right direction.  
  
Right now, as he watched the Mortal Muse, whose life was in danger and who he cared far too much about, he figured he could use some direction.  
  
“You’re being awful quiet, Jack, you feeling okay?” Rowan asked.  
  
“Just thinking,” he said.  
  
“About anything interesting?” she asked.  
  
“Just that you’ve made it this far without almost killing us,” he joked. She reached over with one hand and shoved him, a grin on her face.  
  
“I’m not the one that almost crashed Santa’s sleigh!”  
  
The rest of the drive, all however many hours it was (Jack stopped counting at some point), went much the same. Jack would make comments on the music in her library, choosing a new artist as the previous one ran out of songs. New conversations would start, which usually ended with the two of them making fun of each other or Jack commenting on her driving, which only ended with Rowan taunting the whole half-minute of driving experience he had.  
  
There were a few stops along the way in order to fill gas tanks and coffee mugs. Jack found himself beginning to nod off until Rowan stopped at a traffic light.  
  
“We’re not on the highway anymore,” Jack said, looking around, suddenly wide awake.  
  
“Good job, Sherlock,” Rowan replied.  
  
“Please tell me we’re almost there,” he pleaded.  
  
“We’re almost there,” she laughed.  
  
 _“Yes._  I don’t want to see another car for a  _week_ ,” he groaned.  
  
“Same here,” Rowan said, driving again once the light turned green.  
  
“So what are your parents like?” he asked, interested in his surroundings now that it was something other than highway and other cars.  
  
“Well, I’m their only kid so they’re super protective,” she said. “It’s part of why I went to school so far away, so it would be harder for them to smother me. They’re getting better, I suppose.”  
  
“So that’s where you get your tendency to worry about absolutely  _everything_  from,” Jack said as though he had just figured out some great mystery.  
  
“I guess! Since I started school, they usually calm down when I’m home, like being able to see me every day makes them less worried or something. Besides that, Mom’s kind of intense sometimes, she’s an attorney and people get legitimately scared when they have to go up against her. And Dad, well… he likes science fiction.”  
  
“Big Star Wars nerd?” Jack asked.  
  
“He’s been on a Firefly kick for a while, he’s got quite the impressive collection,” Rowan shrugged. “It’s probably good I’m their only child since it allows him to spend money on strange pieces of merchandise.”  
  
“What does he do?”  
  
“He is actually a financial advisor. It never ceases to amaze me that people pay a guy who owns an exact replica of Malcolm Reynolds’ coat to tell them how to spend their money.”  
  
“How much was the coat?” Jack asked, brow furrowed.  
  
“You don’t want to know,” Rowan sighed as they pulled up to a gated community and she rolled down her window to punch in the entrance code. Jack eyed the large houses, most of which were covered in Christmas lights by now, letting out a low whistle.  
  
“Nice neighborhood,” he commented as the gate opened to allow them entrance.  
  
“Yeah, maybe this is why people still go to Dad for financial advice,” she shrugged, turning down another street.  
  
“This might be in bad taste to ask, but if this is where your parents live why are you in that tiny studio apartment?” Jack asked, examining the houses as they passed. Each seemed more impressive than the last, with elegant front doors and giant windows showing off large Christmas trees.  
  
“My parents definitely help me out, but they don’t want me to be totally reliant on them. They’ve always been very clear that their money is not  _my_  money,” Rowan explained. “Like, it would have been cheaper if I lived with a roommate, so that’s what they wanted me to do, that’s what they were willing to pay for. But the girl I lived with at student housing last year was psychotic and stole supplies from me until I started locking them in my car. So, that already sort of put me off the idea. Then Shirley and I were thinking of rooming together this year but she moved in with Adam instead, so I saved up all summer to make the rent difference so I could live by myself.”  
  
“Got ditched for a boy, doesn’t that violate girl code or something?” Jack asked.  
  
“You’d think. That’s another thing, it was just hard to find someone to live with. Everyone’s moving in with their boyfriends or already  _does_  live with their boyfriend. At least she told me a few months before,” Rowan said with a roll of the eye before pulling into the driveway of a house coated in Christmas lights and an obscene amount of other decorations, including giant candy canes, an inflatable snowman, and plastic representations of Santa Claus and his reindeer on the roof. The Santa and reindeer were particularly strange to see, simply due to the inaccuracy.  
  
They never made North look badass enough.  
  
“I don’t think your parents are getting into the spirit enough,” Jack said sarcastically.  
  
“My mom has declared war with the old woman down the street when it comes to Christmas decorations, she’s probably not even done yet,” Rowan said, shutting off her car and unbuckling her seatbelt before sliding out of the vehicle. Jack quickly exited the car as well, now that there was no one around to see the passenger door open and close.  
  
Rowan hadn’t even had a chance to find the house key on her lanyard when the front door burst open, revealing a middle-aged woman in a thick grey sweater. The resemblance to Lorelei Bennett was nearly uncanny, though it was clear this woman was much older, Jack estimated perhaps a decade, with dark circles beneath her large brown eyes. She didn’t wear glasses as Lorelei did, and her hair seemed to be a darker brown, possibly due to dye. It was shorter and gently curled.  
  
But the body types and manners in which they walked were the same, the height nearly was too. If I weren’t already obvious by the fact that she was answering the Sawyers’ front door, it didn’t take long to figure out that this was Dot, Rowan’s mother and Lorelei’s older sister.  
  
“Hey Mom-” Rowan started, confirming Jack’s musings. Before she could even consider uttering another word, the woman pulled Rowan into a back-breaking hug, a huge grin on her face.  
  
“Oh, my Roo! I’ve missed you so much, I’m so glad you got here okay!”  
  
“Roo?” Jack asked, snickering. Rowan rolled her eyes, gently hugging her mother in return.  
  
“I’ve missed you, too. But Mom, this hurts,” Rowan winced before her mother finally released her.  
  
“Bill! Get down here! Rowan’s home!” Dot called before turning back to Rowan and beginning to fuss over her, pushing her bangs out of her face. “Have you been eating enough, Roo? You’re so thin, haven’t you been buying groceries? I know you have money for food. You don’t have to be a  _starving_  artist, you know. You look exhausted, have you been getting enough sleep?”  
  
“I just drove here all the way from-” Rowan started before a man emerged from the house. He was quite tall, with the same mole on the inner corner of his right eye that Rowan had and a neatly combed brown hair and mustache combination. His eyes were a dark green and he wore a sweatshirt for some university that Jack was not familiar with.  
  
He pulled Rowan into a hug, far more gently than his wife had. “Hey Angel Face, how was the drive over?”  
  
“It was good, Dad,” Rowan said, returning his hug.  
  
When he released her from his hold he examined his daughter for no longer than a few seconds before asking, “Have you been eating?”  
  
“That’s what I said,” Dot said.  
  
“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Rowan sighed.  
  
“You start working on one of your projects and then forget to eat sometimes, Angel Face, we worry,” Bill said. “Are you at least taking a vitamin? You need to eat more vegetables, I can tell.”  
  
“You were not kidding about the worrying,” Jack laughed, shaking his head at the couple.  
  
“I’m, uh, gonna get my bags,” Rowan said, turning her heel and heading back to the driveway, closely followed by her parents.  
  
“What happened here?” Bill said, approaching the hood of Rowan’s jeep and pointing to the dent, irritation clear on his face.  
  
“Not a clue,” Rowan said, shaking her head. “Woke up this morning and it was like that.”  
  
 _“Rowan Jean._  Don’t you think this car has  _enough_  dents?”  
  
“I promise you it wasn’t me!” she insisted, opening the back of her car to retrieve her bags. Dot took the bags that Rowan had not taken, rolling her eyes at her daughter and husband the whole way.  
  
“We’ll bang it out later,” Bill muttered, lightly touching the dent. Jack smiled nervously in Rowan’s direction and she simply rolled her eyes again, in much the same manner her mother just had.  
  
“Bill, get the paintings,” Dot told her husband as she and Rowan passed him with her luggage, heading into the house. Jack followed them inside, the large, synthetic Christmas tree catching his eye. It was one of the glistening, silver ones, currently undecorated. There was the strong smell of  _something_  delicious cooking in the kitchen.  
  
“We were waiting for you to come home before we started on the tree,” Dot said as she and Rowan set her bags at the foot of the stairs. The rest of the living room, which this front room seemed to be, was already very much decorated with strings of lights and beads, as well as Christmas-themed figurines.  
  
Jack, however, found himself distracted by the collection of family photos on the far wall. There were quite a few of Jamie and Sophie, even a handful of Abbey, the greyhound. There were pictures of Lorelei and Dot when they were younger and what appeared to be Rowan’s father and perhaps his brother. The most interesting, however, were the series of pictures that were very clearly Rowan’s school photos.  
  
Jack turned back to Rowan, pointing to one of the pictures and smirking. “Nice hair,” he said. She blushed, turning away as she had no means to currently explain to him why in that picture she had very long, bright pink hair.  
  
“Are you making shepherd’s pie?” Rowan asked her mother, who had begun to sort through the paintings her father had just brought in.  
  
“I want all of these,” Dot said, picking up one of the still lives and holding against the nearby wall as though to test how it would look there. “And yes, but it won’t be done for a little while.”  
  
“I missed your shepherd’s pie, Mom,” Rowan said, hugging the woman briefly once more. “I’m gonna take my stuff upstairs, you guys, uh, keep laying claim to my assignments.”  
  
Gathering together her bags, Rowan started up the stairs, Jack following close behind. Once they were out of sight from her parents, he took hold of one of the bags in an attempt to help her out. She soon pushed open a door, revealing a room with bright pink and black walls coated in posters of various eyeliner-clad musicians and old artwork. There was a double bed with black blankets and pillows that all seemed to blend into one another, a desk and chair, and a rather impressive bookshelf.  
  
“Yeah, I decorated this room when I was fifteen, no judging,” Rowan said, setting down her bags. Jack set down the one he was carrying as well, and seemed to be trying not to laugh.  
  
“Was that when your hair was pink, too?” he asked.  
  
“I dyed it pink when I was fourteen, fortunately I did that after they took yearbook pictures.  _Unfortunately_ , I was somehow able to keep up with it until the  _next_  year’s yearbook pictures,” she sighed. “So, yes, my hair was still pink when I was fifteen, and if I leaned up against that pink wall and stayed  _real still_  it was almost like I wasn’t there.”  
  
“Impressive,” he said.  
  
“I also had a fake lip ring that got caught on my braces and… it was all so unfortunate,” Rowan said, burying her face in her hands in shame.  
  
“Aw, that’s right, Tooth mentioned you had braces.”  
  
“Four years.  _Four years of braces, Jack._  That’s just cruel, I finally got them off the summer before my junior year.”  
  
“I’m learning so much about you,” Jack snickered. “So why are you ‘Roo’?”  
  
Rowan plopped down on the foot of her bed and sighed. “My mom is Kanga. I’m Roo. There. Go on and laugh, get it out of your system.”  
  
“That’s adorable,” Jack said, indeed laughing a little.  
  
“Oh, so now  _I’m_  the cute one,” Rowan said.  
  
“I said the nickname was cute, not you,” Jack said, amused.  
  
“You think I’m cute,” she said in a sing-song voice.  
  
“You’re ridiculous.”  
  
“Ridiculously  _cute.”_  
  
The pair couldn’t help but laugh for a moment. Jack approached the nearby alarm clock, checking the time before pulling back the curtains to take a look outside.  
  
“There’s still some time before sunset,” he said, turning back to Rowan. “I’ll be back soon, I promise, I just have to go talk to the Sandman.”  
  
“All right,” Rowan said with a nod. “Thanks for keeping me company today, Jack.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” he smiled before unlocking her window and sliding it open. He climbed through, careful not to knock over the plastic reindeer before flying off into the distance.  
  
“C’mon wind, take me somewhere it’s already night,” Jack called. It wasn’t long before he reached the darkness of another part of the world, Sandy’s dream creatures roaming about.  
  
“Okay, Sandman, where are you?” Jack mumbled to himself as he followed the twisting streams of dream sand, finally finding their source at Sandy’s golden dream cloud. The small man happily directed his sand every which way as he remained perched on his swirling cloud, pausing only when he saw Jack approaching. He waved at him in greeting.  
  
“Hey Sandy, can I talk to you for a minute?” Jack said, hesitantly landing on the cloud, quickly finding that it would support his weight as well. He kneeled down in order to be on the other Guardian’s level, just as images began to flash above his head.  
  
“Rowan should be fine, it’s still daylight there. But we ran into some Shadow People last night,” Jack said in response to the sand images. Sandy seemed surprised and North’s silhouette, along with a question mark, appeared above his head. “No, I haven’t told North yet. But considering the whole ‘he knows when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake’ thing, I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough.”  
  
More images. Jack watched carefully; sometimes he still had trouble keeping up with Sandy. “Yeah, we’re fine, I got a little banged up but nothing serious. Rowan’s in another state now, so hopefully it will take the Shadow People a little longer to find her again, but… I don’t know, Sandy, I’m afraid I won’t be able to beat them if more of them attack next time, or if they get to the point where they’re faster or stronger… I couldn’t beat Pitch by myself and we actually had half a clue what we were up against.”  
  
Sandy pointed to Jack and made a few more gestures with his hands as the sand above his head continued to take different shapes. “I appreciate your faith in me, Sandy, but I think we both know that I can’t do this alone. I’m afraid that if we wait until after Christmas, something bad might happen. All I want is to keep her safe and… I know this isn’t what anyone wants to hear but I’m starting to think that maybe we  _should_  ask Pitch for help.”  
  
Pitch’s silhouette and more appeared above Sandy’s head.  
  
“I know, asking him for help is a big risk, but waiting around and putting all our eggs in one basket is even riskier. We need another plan besides ‘Jack will protect Rowan.’ I just don’t know how to do it without going behind North’s back. I don’t want a repeat of Easter, I don’t think they’ll forgive me a second time.”  
  
This time the image that appeared above Sandy’s head was of a ballot.  
  
“A vote?” Jack asked. More images flashed above the older Guardian’s head. “So at the next meeting, someone – I guess me, or Melpomene at this point – calls a vote to decide if we go to Pitch for help or not.”  
  
Sandy nodded.  
  
“Who all votes?” Jack asked. The sun, the moon, a “G” and an “M” each appeared above Sandy’s head. “So all of us: the Guardians, the Muses, the sun, and Manny… how many do we need to win?”  
  
The simple equation of “½ + 1” appeared above Sandy’s head.  
  
“Majority rules, all right… I don’t know, Sandy. Five Guardians, Nine Muses, the sun and the moon… That means we need at least nine votes.”  
  
Sandy shook his head, the fancy script “M” making an appearance above his head once more before a “10.”  
  
“Ten Muses?” Jack said, brow furrowed. “What, you mean Rowan?”  
  
Jack watched carefully as a few more images flashed above Sandy’s head.  
  
“Okay, so what I’m getting is that Rowan’s technically part of the alliance, so she would get a vote,” Jack said hesitantly. Sandy nodded before continuing to form more images. “But she can decline to vote beforehand. I can bring her refusal to vote to the meeting in writing, but if I don’t and she’s not around for the vote, the results are voided.”  
  
Sandy nodded yet again.  
  
“This is all very political,” Jack said, shaking his head. “Where do you even get this information?”  
  
The image of the book that contained the Guardian’s oath appeared above Sandy’s head.  
  
“Right, that makes sense, I think North told me to read that and I went and made blizzards instead,” said Jack. Reading wasn’t as fun when someone told you to do it. “I don’t know, I might not be able to get the votes. I can’t say  _I_  would have voted to ask Pitch for help a week ago.”  
  
As images began to form above Sandy’s head, Jack stared at the short man in surprise. “Wait, you’ll vote with me? I figured you’d side with Calliope, especially after what Pitch did to you a few months ago.”  
  
More images. Sandy seemed to be implying that sometimes grudges had to be set aside for the greater good.  
  
“And Calliope won’t be angry with you?” Jack asked. Sandy smiled nervously, as though to imply that she probably would be. He then simply shrugged, however, implying that he had dealt with her angry many times before.  
  
“Well, we might just be able to win this, then,” Jack said. “I’ll talk to North tomorrow.”


	24. Yelena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves one of the big reveals you've been waiting for (in case you didn't catch on from the chapter title). Now, as a warning, some religious concepts are discussed (i.e. heaven) but I don't think that should be anything too uncomfortable for anyone. North's holiday is religion-based after all, and I don't believe I got preachy at all. I'm not religious myself but it seemed appropriate for the chapter, hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think!

_"You are willing to overlook all he’s done for her sake?"_

_"I’m willing to call a truce if it means she’ll be safe. It’s the best for all of us."_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Yelena**

* * *

  
  
Jack ducked as a platform loaded with wrapped gifts was hoisted on a pulley system past him. He was beginning to wonder if there was ever a moment when the yetis rested or took a break. His mind raced with the concept of a yeti’s labor union, though the creatures were so loyal to North he doubted they’d ever organize a strike or anything like that.  
  
North hadn’t been in the globe room or his workshop. If he had been in his sleeping quarters, he hadn’t answered when Jack knocked. He wasn’t looking forward to searching the entire workshop for the man, it was so vast and large.  
  
“Hey, Phil!” Jack said, approaching the familiar yeti, meticulously tying a bow on a wrapped box. Maybe he  _wouldn’t_  have to search the entire pole, top to bottom. “Where’s North?”  
  
Phil gently placed the box with a pile of some others before turning his attention to Jack, speaking to him quickly in a language he didn’t understand. Jack raised a brow before finally saying, “Can you  _point_  me in the right direction?”  
  
The yeti sighed before pointing off toward another part of the factory. “Thanks,” Jack said before flying off, careful to dodge piles of gifts and elves who were still busy hanging strings of lights. He found North helping one of the yetis hoist a rather large gift onto a platform before it was taken away.  
  
“Jack!” North said with a smile once he saw the boy.  
  
“Hey, North, I know you’re busy but-” Jack started.  
  
“I always have time for you, Jack,” North said. “Come, let’s go to my workshop, we will talk there.”  
  
“All right,” Jack said, finally landing so that he could walk with the man.  
  
“I heard of your encounter with the Shadow People the other night,” North commented as the pair climbed into one of the various lifts, which would take them to the level of the factory where his workshop resided.  
  
“I figured you would have,” Jack said. “I know you told us not to go out after dark, but-”  
  
“You did well against them, Jack! Just as I knew you would. Rowan did not do so poorly herself, running them down with her car. Not strategy I would have gone with, but somewhat effective,” North said with a warm smile as the lift came to a stop, kicking the door open and leading the way to his workshop.  
  
“I honestly don’t think either of us thought much of it through,” Jack said.   
  
“Well, it worked, regardless. Have they bothered you since?” North asked.  
  
“No, I’m not sure they know she’s changed location,” Jack said. “But that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about, North, this whole… thing with me playing Rowan’s bodyguard.”  
  
“What about it?” North asked, pushing open the door to his workshop. Once Jack was inside, North closed the door and settled himself into his rolling chair. Jack took a seat atop the table, propping his staff against the ground and leaning against it.  
  
“I don’t think I can do this myself, North,” Jack said. “I mean, you’re all relying on me to keep Rowan’s powers safe so that basically the whole world won’t fall into this depressive state. And it’s not just the Guardians, it’s the Muses that expect this out of me, and-”  
  
“Jack, your staff is all that has proven effective against the Shadow People, and we cannot test our other weapons until after Christmas, you know this. I have complete confidence in you,” North said, cutting the younger spirit off.  
  
“And I appreciate that, really, but the Shadow People know Rowan’s the Mortal Muse now, don’t they?”  
  
North hesitated for a short moment. “Yes, they do.”  
  
“So they’re going to focus all their efforts on her. They’re going to try more attacks and this time around there’s going to be more of them. Stronger ones, faster ones, we  _still_  don’t know much about them. In a few days it’ll be the new moon and Manny won’t be able to help me even if he thinks I need it,” Jack said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to beat them, North, we need another plan.”  
  
“There is no other plan,” North said.  
  
“Yes there is,” Jack said hesitantly. North watched Jack suspiciously, which just served to make the boy more nervous. “We can get more information sooner than Christmas, sooner than the new moon, if we ask Pitch for help.”  
  
“Jack, you cannot be serious,” North said immediately.  
  
“I know you don’t want to, and I know why, but I can’t risk her life because of a grudge,” Jack said desperately. “I want to call another meeting, tomorrow if we can, I want to call a vote and if enough of the others agree… we can make him a deal, set strict terms in exchange for the information.”  
  
North watched the younger Guardian for a moment, the serious expression on his face giving away the deep thought he was currently undergoing. Finally, he spoke, “You are willing to overlook all he’s done for her sake?”  
  
“I’m willing to call a truce if it means she’ll be safe. It’s the best for all of us,” Jack said, avoiding eye contact with the older man. “I can’t stand him, he’s a manipulative son of a bitch but he knows the darkness better than we do.”  
  
“I do not agree with this line of action,” North said. “And I cannot say that I will vote with you, Jack. But, as it is, you are fully within our guidelines to call a vote, and if the decision is made to contact Pitch, I suppose I will have to live with it. I will send message to Urania, she will gather the others and we will have meeting tomorrow. Both sides will present their case and then we vote.”  
  
Jack nodded, swallowing nervously. “I’m really sorry, North-”  
  
“Do not be,” North said gently. “It is certainly not the first time I have had a disagreement with another Guardian, and I am sure it will not be the last.”  
  
“I just… I feel like this is our best option.  _Her_  best option,” said Jack weakly.  
  
“You care very much for Rowan,” North said. It was very clearly a statement, not a question.  
  
“I promised Jamie I would protect her,” Jack said vaguely.  
  
“It is more than that, though, is it not?” North asked. Jack was silent, his mind racing back to sleeping at her bedside the past few nights, the pecks on the cheek, the absolute fear he had that she might not survive this whole ordeal.  
  
The way her eyes lit up when she told a story or laughed at one of his. She hadn’t worked much on hers the past few days with everything else going on.  
  
Speaking of stories...  
  
“I want to tell you a story, Jack,” North said, breaking the silence. Jack watched the other Guardian in confusion.  
  
“A story?” he repeated.  
  
North rolled his chair across to another part of his worktable and began to fumble through some of the drawers. Jack stood from his place on the table and hovered a few inches above the ground in the hopes of seeing what North was searching for. It seemed the drawers he was sorting through were filled with various knick-knacks and keepsakes.   
  
Returning to Jack, North handed the boy a small picture frame. Looking down, Jack found a drawing of a handsome young couple, the page yellowed with age. The man was tall, strong, and dressed from head to toe in furs. He had a scruffy black beard and messy black hair.  
  
The woman was nearly as tall as the man, wearing a great amount of furs as well. She had long, red locks, and stern, green eyes. Her smile was infectious. The belt on her coat was pulled tight enough to hint at the curves beneath, and somehow Jack knew that she was a force to be reckoned with, strong and sturdy.  
  
“Who’re they?” Jack asked.  
  
“Do you truly not recognize the man?” North said with a small chuckle. Jack’s eyes darted between the old man before him and the young man in the drawing. The young man with the dark hair had familiar blue eyes. Jack opened his mouth briefly to speak, but soon closed it again, confusion clear on his face.  
  
“That’s you?” he said, finally.  
  
“In my youth,” North said with another chuckle.  
  
“Who’s the girl?” Jack said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
“Her name was Yelena,” North said, a smile playing at his lips as he spoke. “She was my wife. My solnishka, my bright, shining sun.”  
  
“There was a Mrs. St. North?” Jack said, taking a seat on North’s worktable again he continued to look at the drawing. There were many Christmas stories that included a Mrs. Claus but Jack had never thought much into the fact that there wasn’t a woman lurking about pole and baking cookies.  
  
“Many centuries ago, before your time. Is why I have no photographs,” North explained, leaning back in his chair a bit as he spoke. “But yes, there was indeed a Mrs. St. North.”  
  
“But not anymore,” Jack said hesitantly, trailing off.  
  
North shook his head, though the soft smile was still present on his face. “No, she passed, as I said, many centuries ago.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. North shook his head.  
  
“Some days, I am sad she is gone, but not today,” he said. “Today, I tell you about her. Bunny thinks you would benefit from the story.”  
  
Jack’s mind darted back to the times Bunny had insisted Jack talk to North about getting close to mortals. Yelena must have obviously been one, he realized, his eyes returning to her face on the drawing.  
  
“Back when we met, folklore was far more accepted in the world. It was a time when legends and myth were used to explain what science can now prove. It was a time when it was not uncommon for those who were past childhood to be able to see me, and I did some travelling. I had found her village when a grand celebration was in progress, and I decided to stay for the festivities. I met many fascinating people before night fell and music began to play. But she caught my eye as she danced,” North said. “She was filled with so much life, and the more that I watched her, the more inspired I became. A great energy grew within me, and I wanted to create great masterpieces, I wanted to write great lyrics, but most of all, I wanted simply to dance with her.”  
  
“She was a Mortal Muse,” Jack said, looking up from the drawing again. Again he remembered comments Bunny had made about associating with Mortal Muses  _again_ , when he insisted the boy speak with North.  
  
“Yes, but neither of us knew this at the time,” North said. “I also was a terrible dancer at this time, and when I cut in, she laughed as I stumbled about. She eventually abandoned me, leaving me embarrassed among the other dancing couples. I had made up my mind to forget about her, but this was evidently not to be, as on my way out of town the next morning, I found her with a group of children, telling them the stories of legend and stopped to listen. She got some details wrong about a certain legend. I no longer remember which one it even was, but I corrected her and we began to argue until she said that the only way I could know she was wrong was if I was there. I told her that perhaps I  _had_  been and she simply wrote me off as insane and gathered together the children, leading them away from me so she may continue telling her fables in peace.”  
  
“Sounds like she didn’t like you much, North,” Jack smirked. North returned the smile.  
  
“She did not think highly of me, no. I returned to the pole, focused on my work for the next year, but some nights I would still have dreams of her,” said North, rolling back over to the drawers and fumbling around until he pulled out a music box. He rolled back to where Jack sat, setting the music box beside him before turning the key. As music began to play, the box opened to reveal a meticulously carved and painted figure of Yelena, dancing to the music. “Always of her dancing, always of the way she laughed and the fire behind her eyes. When I realized it was coming close to the time of the festival, I returned to the town, hoping to run into her again.  
  
“When I got to the village, however, it was quiet. The whole town had squeezed its way into the small court house, I soon learned, and pushed my way inside as well.”  
  
“What was going on there?” Jack asked.  
  
“A trial. A  _witch_  trial. Imagine my surprise when I saw that beautiful redhead insisting to the court that she was not a witch. It seemed that her stories had frightened some children and interested too many others in the idea of wielding magic, inspiring them to pretend they could cast spells or fly. Aside from that, she had many ideas about her place as a woman that would not seem shocking now, but were terrifying for many at the time. Men were furious with her for trying to tell their wives that they were  _people_  and not simply extensions of their husbands and property to be obtained. Actually, many woman were disgusted with her for this, appalled that she had stated she would rather die an old maid than marry a man who saw her as less than an equal. They claimed she used magic to influence other young girls, and in a way, with her abilities as a Mortal Muse, she had.   
  
“Her downfall in this trial was that she did not deny stating any of this. She insisted that she was smarter than each man in that room, taller than most of them, and probably stronger than a great deal as well, and that the only reason she was on trial was because they feared a woman being superior to them in any way. By the time she finished speaking, she had signed her own death certificate. They sentenced her to death by hanging and locked her away.”  
  
Jack winced. He remembered witch trials; he’d watched more than he could count back when he had first become Jack Frost. Knowing real magic, knowing of existing magical beings, knowing full well that the people put on trial were  _not_  these beings, had always been unsettling.  
  
And yet he had watched the executions, just as the general public did. He didn’t know what he could possibly do to help without incriminating the victims further (receiving help from winter itself? Witchcraft!). It was entertainment in that day and age, everyone gathered to watch people die.  
  
Jack didn’t like to think of the amount of people he’d watched die back then, though public executions or otherwise. He didn’t like to think of that first century or so in general.  
  
“So what did you do?” Jack asked.  
  
“I waited for night to fall and found the cell where they were keeping her. Even as I was doing it, I wondered what compelled me to do so much for a woman I barely knew, a woman who had only laughed at me in the past. I easily defeated the guard and took his key, but when I unlocked her cell, she would not leave.  
  
“I told her to come quickly. We would have to leave as soon as possible if she wished to live. Still she would not move, she insisted that running away would only be admitting guilt, that she would rather face the gallows speaking the truth. I told her that she would not change anyone’s mind and she pointed out that if I believed her, surely there were others.  
  
“I asked her again to come with me, I insisted that she was not fit for the role of martyr and she grew angry with me, demanding to know what gave me the right to make decisions for her, to decide what was best for her.”  
  
“Sounds like someone I know,” Jack smiled, thinking back to the times Rowan had lectured him about telling her what she did and didn’t want.  
  
“I told her that it was true, I did not know her, but I could feel her spirit. It was fierce and strong. She had a whole life of adventures that she had yet to have, adventures she could not have while in this small village. She had worlds to see and things to learn, lives to change. None of which she could do while hanging from a rope. I asked her if she was truly done living, if she was truly ready to throw away her entire life for the sake of a village that could not handle her spirit.”  
  
“I’m guessing you were able to convince her,” Jack said. North smiled.  
  
“She finally agreed to come with me and I brought her to the sleigh so we could make our escape. I remember her laughing at me again as we climbed in, asking if I was supposed to be Saint Nicholas or something with my great reindeer instead of horses. Her laughter came to a sudden halt as we became airborne. After a moment of awed silence, she began to ask whom I was, where we were going, what was going on. She believed herself to be going insane.”  
  
“Again, sounds like someone I know,” said Jack.  
  
“I explained to her who I was and that we were headed for the North Pole, where she would stay until we found a new location for her or the village’s rage died down. She was upset for a time, believing that I had simply moved her from one prison to another. I told her, find a new place that she wished to go, and I would take her. Anywhere in the world, provided that it was not the small corner of Russia that now wanted her dead.”  
  
“Did she ever pick a place?” Jack asked.  
  
“No. She insisted she needed time to decide, and would work in the meantime to earn her stay. She said there were simply too many places in the world for her to make such a decision in haste, but I believe she  _wanted_  to remain at the pole for a time, to fully explore it and its wonders. Even on her deathbed, however, she would never admit such a thing; she was always so stubborn. But I remember seeing her discarding her chores in order to speak to the Yetis, determined to learn their language, which she eventually did. She would watch them work and ask how to use their tools. She took the reindeer out to run and fly, they trusted her entirely. She could have easily taken one and left, gone anywhere in the world… and yet she remained. She  _did_  later admit to me that she was happiest here at the pole.”  
  
“So how did you guys get together, then?”  
  
“We had meals together, which I very much enjoyed. The Yetis are excellent company but it was nice to have another person to talk to every once in a while. We grew to be good friends through the mealtime conversations. I told her of my adventures and my past as a bandit-”  
  
“I really want to hear  _those_  stories at some point,” Jack said, mind filling with thoughts of a younger North marauding around the world.  
  
North laughed. “Stories for another time! But Yelena enjoyed them as well, and one evening when I was preparing for Christmas, which was quickly approaching, she came to me with a letter. She said that she knew that she had not been very nice, but as I had overlooked it before, perhaps I would again. When she left, I opened the letter to find that she had requested a gift from me for Christmas: fencing lessons. She said if my stories were true, if I was in fact the grand swordsman I claimed to be, she could think of no better teacher.  
  
“Every year on Christmas, after I have finished delivering gifts, the other Guardians come to the pole and we celebrate and exchange gifts with each other. You are, of course, to be part of that tradition starting this year, Jack.”  
  
“Really?” Jack said, surprised. It was like having a family! A real family to celebrate Christmas with. He’d gotten so used to spending these holidays by himself, and after everything else that had happened recently, he hadn’t even considered how Christmas would go this year.  
  
“Of course, you are Guardian now,” North smiled. “Yelena was hesitant at first, feeling as though she was intruding on our traditions, but I insisted that she come and meet the others I had told her so much about. She was delighted to hear their stories and they were more than happy to share them. After they had departed, I asked her to walk with me and brought her down to a large room I have set aside for when I feel the need to practice my combative skills. I handed her a foil and we began our lessons.  
  
“Yelena was usually very fast learner but she did not take to fencing right away. With every defeat she grew more frustrated, _angry_  that she did not have natural talent for the sport. I caught her many times practicing on her own until the early hours of the morning, even convincing some of the yetis to spar with her for the sake of practice. For very long time she was on quite the impressive losing streak. I believe she lost to some elves standing on each other’s shoulders once. She claimed she would quit her lessons many times but still arrived each day with her sword in hand.  
  
“I enjoyed the lessons simply because I enjoyed spending time with her and seeing her improve, even if it was at a slow pace. She beamed with pride when she finally defeated me and we began to practice more advanced moves.” North fumbled through his drawers again, handing Jack another picture, this one of the two of them engaged in a sword fight, grins on their faces and laughter in their eyes.  
  
“Who drew all these?” Jack had to ask. The drawings were very good.  
  
“The yetis are more talented than I often give them credit for,” North chuckled. “One night I asked Yelena if she would give me lessons in something, as I had already dedicated so many hours to teaching her fencing. She asked what she could possibly teach an immortal man that had seen so much and had so many adventures. I reminded her that I was a terrible dancer, and once more she laughed at me before taking me by my hands and pulling me out to the floor. I took to dancing about as quickly as she took to fencing. I stumbled about like a great stupid animal, but she always moved quickly, never to be stepped on by me and always ready to laugh at my blunders. At last, I came up with the perfect way to make her stop laughing.”  
  
“You stopped being a bad dancer?” Jack smirked.  
  
“Eventually,” North smiled. “But in this instance, I kissed her. It had been something I had wanted to do ever since we first danced at that festival, something I was too frightened to try. She returned my kiss, but as soon as she pulled away, she left the room without another word. I was certain that I had ruined the friendship we had, that she was going to ask to leave the next moment I saw her. But the next day she found me in my workshop and told me that she worried that she would grow old and no longer interest me, that my immortality would soon divide us.   
  
“I could not imagine her ever being uninteresting. I did not want to return to the days when she was not around to swap stories with the yetis and prevent the elves from being trampled by the reindeer. I’m still not sure how I was able to, but I convinced her that it was worth attempting to be with each other regardless of her doubts. Our courtship escalated quickly from there, I do believe the yetis grew tired of us sneaking away from our work to find secluded places to hide and-”  
  
“I don’t need too many details,” Jack said immediately. North might have been young when this had taken place, but he would always be the jolly old man with the white hair and long beard to him.  
  
North laughed. “Well, let us just say I returned to work quite disheveled a few times. One day, I was visited by Calliope, who asked how long I had planned to romance the Mortal Muse without her finding out. This was when they still kept close tabs on who the Mortal Muse was, and this is when Yelena and I learned that it was her. Yelena did enjoy the company of the other Muses, she even got along with Melpomene, something that still confuses me. But she often confided in me that while she admired them and their great powers, she was not sure if she wanted that for herself. She was not sure she could be trusted with such power.”  
  
“Still sounds like she took it better than Rowan did,” Jack commented.  
  
“That poor girl, we informed her of so much at one time,” North sighed. “Yelena had time to adjust to our world before finding out she potentially had a place in it. The other Muses were critical of me for a time, unsure if I was worthy of being with one of them, but Yelena was stubborn and often made a point to kiss me or ask me to tell one of my grand stories in front of them.  
  
“One day I called her over to one of the machines. I told her that something was jammed in the gears and neither I, nor the Yetis could get it, as our hands were too big. Since her hands were smaller, I asked her to see if she could remove the jam and she made some comment about not being sure how I managed to run the pole before she came along and reached within the machine. What she pulled out was a ring that I had carefully crafted, which left her confused. She asked whose ring it was, and I told her that it was hers, if she agreed to be my wife. She said yes.”  
  
North handed Jack another drawing, this one a wedding portrait. Yelena wore a meticulously embroidered gown with a fur-lined cloak, while North donned a coat far more formal than his usual one, and actually wore a waistcoat and tie. In the picture their eyes were locked to one another’s, their smiles sincere, lovesick.  
  
“It was a grand event, our wedding. All the Muses, all the Guardians, and so many other mythical beings were in attendance. Manny even came down from the moon to marry us, and he rarely visits us down here. I do believe it was the last time he has visited. He also helped me with my wedding gift to Yelena, though he tried talking me out of it.”  
  
“What was it?” Jack asked.  
  
“He made it so that I would age with her,” North said.  
  
“So that’s why you don’t look like this anymore,” Jack said, pointing to North’s image in the wedding portrait.  
  
“Precisely. She did not have to worry about growing old and her hair turning grey, because I would go grey and earn age spots with her. This brought her great comfort, that my immortality would not be so obvious.”  
  
North returned to his drawers once again and Jack decided this time to just move over to where the drawers were, rather than having the man go back and forth.  
  
“We traveled the world for our honeymoon, leaving the yetis in charge of the pole for months as we had our own adventures. We met the most magnificent people, she inspired great poets and writers as we went. We caused trouble and saved other people from their own troubles. It was some of the most fun I’ve had in my long life,” North said, still filing through some other drawings.   
  
“So what happened when you guys came back to the pole? I mean, did you guys just keep on doing what you’d been doing or…?” Jack asked. “Did you guys have a family or anything?”  
  
“Ha ha! She learned she was pregnant with our first child shortly after our return to the pole. We had five children in all. I was terrified I’d be bad at being a father, I never knew my own parents. But Yelena assured me that after everything else we’d been through, a few children could not possibly defeat us, though they certainly  _tried_. Yelena was a strict but loving mother. Look, look,” North took out another portrait, this one of the entire family. Yelena was seated with a young girl on her lap, while North and four boys stood around them. Jack leaned over to get a better look as North pointed to each one.   
  
“The oldest was Peter. You remind me much of him, Jack. He was a trouble-maker, a trickster, very smart and easily bored. Never on nice list for very long. He eventually settled down with very intimidating woman, they fought all the time. But I think he enjoyed that. He liked that she challenged him, and even while they taunted one another, they always had smiles on their faces. They had many children, mostly girls. They made my son go grey very early in his life.  
  
“Next was Alexander, a great, great mind. He loved to read and he created the most fantastic of inventions. Much of the newer technology here at the pole is still based on his designs. He went on to be a professor, a very well-respected one. He met a lovely woman and they had one son together. Alexander was sick a lot, though, he died young. I do not think Yelena ever really got over that.  
  
“In the middle was Frederick, he was a very quiet boy. He was great friends with the Yetis, I think he enjoyed their company more than that of people. I think that is why he never had a family of his own. But when he wrote about the yetis in his journals, when he studied them and spent time with them, I saw that he was content, and that is all I wanted for him.  
  
“Then we had Vladimir, who wanted nothing more but to travel after hearing all our stories. And he did. He traveled all around the world, and found a woman just as restless as he. They had many restless children and they all continued to travel until their bones were so weak they no longer could.  
  
“And the youngest, my precious daughter, Eva. She was just as beautiful as her mother and with  _twice_  the spunk. She always took my reindeer out for rides without asking; she loved to fly. She had many suitors, many of which I scared off. However, she was drawn to one who was very timid and weak. But he played music for her, and his talent won her over. They were very happy.”  
  
“What happened to them?” Jack asked. He knew of quite a few other immortal beings that also had immortal children. If North had children and they were still around somewhere, why weren’t they ever mentioned or seen?  
  
“They are long since gone. Mortals, like their mother. I still keep tabs on my many-greats-grandchildren, though they do not know me,” North said, a sad smile pulling at his lips.  
  
“Why don’t you tell them who you are? Surely they believe in you,” Jack said.  
  
“It is so much to explain, it is easier for everyone this way, and they all come and go so quickly,” North said with a shrug, setting down the family portrait. “Besides, now I am so busy that I would not be able to truly be a good grandfather to them anyway. There are so many children in this world I must care for.”  
  
Jack nodded along. Having such an extensive family and having to lose them so frequently had to be emotionally exhausting. He couldn’t even begin to imagine.  
  
“Yelena and I had a wonderful life together,” North said. “We had many adventures, taught each other many things. She gave me my children, whom I loved very dearly; she inspired me to create the most magnificent of toys. But she was a mortal, and while I grew to look old as she did, the belief of the children of the world kept my limbs and my mind young. She slowed down as the years progressed and our children and I took care of her. She grew slightly forgetful but overall her mind still remained sharp until her final days.  
  
“She was very old when she fell ill. Older than most people could ever hope or dream of living to be. I always knew that this day would come, and yet I felt unprepared as I sat with her in my arms that final day. We spoke of our youth and our children, of all our fond memories. We laughed and we cried, and we shared a final kiss. She fell asleep, still in my arms, and passed peacefully.”  
  
Jack shifted uncomfortably as North frowned, his eyes wet with tears. The younger Guardian waved about his hand, creating one of his magical snowflakes before North waved it away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Jack, I did not mean to cry,” said the man, lightly dabbing at his eyes offering the boy another smile. “I do not like thinking of when she was sick. I much prefer to remember her as she was before that. So full of life and laughter.  _That_  is the Yelena that visits my dreams, that inspires me to this day.”  
  
“I’m really sorry,” Jack said at last, unsure of what else to say, his mind was spinning.  
  
“Do not be,” North smiled, patting the boy on the shoulder. “After she died, I held out hope that perhaps she would return as a Muse. It takes a year for the sun to decide, and before I knew it, the anniversary of her death came and went. She had not been chosen, for her death was not inspiring or tragic… it was comfortable, after a long life, and at her time.  
  
“The irony, which was so kindly pointed out to me by Melpomene, was that had I not rescued her from the gallows that night, had she been hung for crimes she did not commit, had she died a martyr… she probably would have come back as a Muse,” North said.  
  
Jack winced at the thought. “That’s… I don’t even…”  
  
“I do not like wasting my times with ‘what if’s,” North said sternly. “Things worked out the way they were supposed to. Yelena never wanted immortality. She had told me when she grew ill that she was ready to die, that she was tired and felt that she had lived all the life that had wanted to. She thanked me for the adventures and for the life she had with me. It was what she wanted.  
  
“That is not to say that I did not wish for her back, that I did not despise the sun for not believing that leaving me here to live indefinitely without her was tragic enough to bring her back. I spent long time mourning her, long time angry and throwing myself into my work as I hoped for a distraction. It took me very long time to heal, but I did. It took me very long time to come to terms with the fact that she was not coming back, but I did. It took me very long time to understand that this was what she wanted and that I would rather have it this way, than have her granted immortality that she would have been unhappy with… but I did.”  
  
“That’s why they don’t keep track of the Mortal Muse anymore,” Jack said.  
  
“Everyone felt it was best not to get attached after Yelena,” North nodded. “But I will see her again, I know.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.  
  
“You know as well as I, Jack. Being on this planet for so long, it is easy to lose faith in things. It is easy not to believe. But we are Guardians, and it is in our nature to believe in some things. As for me? I believe that there is an afterlife. I believe that she is there, watching over our descendants and me as I watch over them and all the other children of the world. I believe that our sons and our beautiful daughter are with her, keeping her company, bringing her joy… driving her crazy, in Peter’s case, just as he did when she was here.  
  
“One day, this will all end. One day, the Guardians will no longer be needed. It may take thousands of years, it may happen tomorrow. Is not something that keeps me up at night. Because even immortality cannot last forever, and one day, I hope to be with her again. But for now, I know that she is still with me, my Yelena. She is in my heart, she keeps the wonder shining in my eyes. She is my sun, my solnishka, my inspiration, and that can never die.”  
  
Jack fidgeted uncomfortably again. How could the words that North spoke be so uplifting and so heart wrenching at the same time? How could it be so optimistic and yet so depressing? Yelena was gone, but North had the best attitude that anyone could hope to have about such an event. But it had taken him ages to get to such a point.  
  
“I know that Bunny wanted me to tell you this because of how you behave around Rowan,” North said after a period of silence. “I know what he wants me to say. That I could have saved myself a lot of heart ache, that I could have spared myself so much pain, if I had just not gotten so hopelessly attached to her. If I had not fallen in love.”  
  
The older man sighed. “It is true,” he said simply. “That woman caused me more pain and sadness than anyone has ever caused me. But she also brought me the most joy, the most hope, the most wonder, the grandest dreams, and the most precious memories. If I could do it all over again, I would in an instant. I would not change a thing.”  
  
North stood at last, placing a hand on each of Jack’s shoulders and careful to look the boy in the eye. “Bunny wants only to keep you from getting hurt. We all care for you a great deal, Jack. He wants me to tell you not to let this happen to you and Rowan… but I do not think I can. If you care for her, do not let the possibility of getting hurt get in the way. Do not live your immortal life wondering what could have been, Jack, do not miss out on something magnificent for the sake of caution.”  
  
“I don’t want to  _marry_  her,” Jack said after a moment of silence, unable to come up with any other response. It was so much to take in, and now North was practically encouraging Jack to be with Rowan when he’d been lecturing him about her a few weeks ago?  
  
“What  _do_  you want?” North asked, letting go of the boy’s shoulders.  
  
“I don’t know, it’s been so long since I’ve liked anyone that way, and to be the least eloquent that I can be, it’s  _weird,”_ said Jack hastily.  
  
“So you  _do_  have feelings for her,” North said, raising a brow. Jack sighed. When he’d come to the North Pole that day, he expected, if anything, some kind of argument over Pitch. Not for heavy conversations about past loves (and potential ones in, his case).  
  
“Jack,” North said again.  
  
“Yes, okay?  _Yes,”_  Jack said at last. “But this is a whole  _thing_  right now and I haven’t known her very long and I’m…”  
  
“You are what?”  
  
“I’m not good at this,” Jack mumbled, rubbing the side of his head and avoiding looking directly at the older man. “I spent three hundred years alone. I can’t just proclaim my affections for her and start living out some kind of Nicholas Sparks novel, it isn’t my  _style.”_  
  
“To me it seems as though the two of you are going for more of J.M. Barrie,” North smiled.  
  
“Still, it’s so…  _complicated_. I almost forgot how difficult girls are.”  
  
“You will figure it out, Jack, I know you will,” North assured him. “Now, it is nearly sunset in Massachusetts.”  
  
“Right. See you tomorrow. Thanks for the story.”  
  
“Of course. Think about what I said, Jack.”  
  
“It’s gonna be hard not to,” Jack sighed as they left the workshop and re-entered the loud, busy factory. He paused a moment before asking, “Do you ever think of getting married again?”  
  
“Ha! To who, Phil?” North said. The Yeti in question looked up from his work, brow furrowed and looking a bit insulted. “Not that I don’t think you’d make an excellent husband Phil. You’re just… not my type.”  
  
Jack smirked slightly at the exchange.  
  
“I am open to the idea, but as of now, I am happy with the family I have in the Guardians,” North said, answering Jack’s question seriously and smiling at the boy. He pulled him into a brief hug before saying, “I know you will do what’s right.”  
  
“Sometimes I think you have too much confidence in me,” Jack admitted.  
  
“Often times I think you do not have enough in yourself,” North replied. “Now, go, before it gets dark where Rowan is.”


	25. Democracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning, more discussion of suicide in this chapter. Though there aren't any descriptions of the act itself.
> 
> I kind of struggled with this chapter. The last few chapters before this I had finished before the semester started and so with this one I was juggling my Muse designs for class and other assignments at the same time. Hopefully it all makes sense and works out okay! Get a little more of the Muses in this one.

_It was something that used to comfort her, the world of magic and pixie dust that existed in her beat up books and her mind. Because anything could happen, and if she didn’t like it, she could change it, she could put the book away._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Democracy**

* * *

  
  
Rowan carefully placed a glass ornament onto the tree. The ornament wasn't anything special: a shining pink orb. But it looked pretty among its siblings that had come with the set. There was little rhyme or reason to many of the other ornaments, varying from favorite characters to terrible hand-made ones that Rowan had created back in elementary school. Her mother still kept each and every one, despite the groans Rowan made every year when that glitter-covered pine cone on a string was retrieved from the box of decorations.  
  
Atop the tree was an angel, with dark locks and an exquisite gown. She was secured to the tree with great care, as she was made of porcelain and very fragile (not to mention, expensive). Taking another ornament from the box, Rowan stopped to carefully examine the small figure of Tinker Bell. It was not any depiction of the fairy that had been present in any film, but rather, the artist's own interpretation of the character. Rowan had found the ornament at an art festival a few years prior and hadn't given a second thought to handing over the bills for the hand-crafted piece.  
  
Now, examining the meticulously painted wings, Rowan couldn't help but think back to the lovely wings possessed by the Tooth Fairy and her assistants. The way they had pulled at her hair and fluttered about, their voices squeaky and speaking a language Rowan didn't understand. Tiny Tinker Bells, ever critical of their "Peter's" new companion.  
  
She remembered flying with Jack, clinging to his shoulders in fright and excitement. All his cocky comments, the complete and utter attention he paid to the stories she told of the character that shared his name, the way he spoke of his own adventures.  
  
When had she become Wendy Darling?  
  
She remembered her childhood, watching the films and begging her mother to take her to the play so that she could see Peter Pan performed in its original format. Her eyes traveled down from the ornament and to the stars tattooed on her wrist.  
  
Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning.  
  
Peter Pan was her first crush. All she had wanted was to find him at her windowsill and fly off with him to Neverland where they could have adventures and tell stories forever, never having to deal with responsibilities or troubles ever again. She'd spent countless math classes daydreaming about it. She'd spent countless nights waiting for him. Real boys never compared, she'd longed for the crowing boy who never grew up.  
  
It was a fantasy she'd tucked away for years, something she'd come to accept was never  _actually_  going to happen. And now a flying boy who would be forever eighteen was tapping at her windowpane each night.  
  
But this wasn't what she wanted, was it? It used to be that her fantasies, her imagination, were a place she had entire control over. If something she imagined with Peter Pan went wrong, she would simply re-write the scene. A story could always be edited, scenes could always be removed, conflict always had a resolution. It was something that used to comfort her, the world of magic and pixie dust that existed in her beat up books and her mind. Because anything could happen, and if she didn't like it, she could change it, she could put the book away.  
  
But now magic was a very real thing, and something she could not control. It was no longer a place she could escape to, but a place with creatures she had to elude for her own safety. In a way, she felt betrayed. All she'd ever wanted was for magic and the creatures and beings from legend to be real. And now that it was, it wasn't as wonderful as she had hoped it would be.  
  
One thing remained consistent, however. Just as Peter and Wendy never did end up together, she felt the same was meant to happen with her and Jack. Wendy grew up, she lost Peter's interest and he moved straight along to another young girl, Jane. Peter never remembered anyone for very long, either due to his easily bored nature or the fact that he had been alive for so long and interacted with so many. Immortality and never growing up did not mix well with mortality and aging.  
  
Besides, Rowan was still in constant debate with herself over how exactly she felt about Jack. Part of her was convinced that had the situation been different, had they not been forced to be around each other so much, that none of this would be happening. The adrenaline and terrifying excitement from having her life threatened had to be contributing to her perceived attraction to him, right? He was her protector, and as anti-feminist as it was, she had enjoyed that he was the one around to keep an eye on her and fend off the bad guys, that he had gotten to act the part of her hero.  
  
Another part of her wondered if she would like him at all if he were a human boy. The novelty of him being a real immortal being, a winter spirit, had to have something to do with it, right? He was so much more interesting than the other boys she knew by default. What if she was just going for the most intriguing option? What if she was just rebounding after the ordeal with Danny a few months ago and was drawn to Jack because he and Danny were different in just about every way they could be? Was she mistaking excitement and intrigue for chemistry and actual feelings?  
  
And yet she could not ignore the fact that she missed him when he was gone. Not because he wasn't around to protect her and she was scared, but simply because he  _wasn't there_  and she wanted him to be. She wanted to talk to him, to ask him more about his adventures the past few centuries and to tell him more of her own stories. She loved that he  _actually cared_  about her stories, that she could babble about them without feeling silly or like she was boring him.  
  
When he smiled, she smiled. She spoke with him so easily, whether it was a serious conversation or an exchange of friendly jabs at one another. When they fought, there was always an underlying level of amusement, it always ended with a smile. When they touched, she somehow knew that the goosebumps she got were not simply from the cold.  
  
Whether it was due to the situation or not, it was hard to deny that the attraction was  _there_. She'd sketched studies of his face, having drawn his blue-tinted lips several times, tracing her fingers over her own and considering what it would be like to kiss him.  
  
Even Peter and Wendy had gotten a kiss.  
  
Just one kiss, to get it out of her system, part of her mind pleaded with her. It wasn't that easy, though. She was determined not to taunt herself with a taste of something she could not have.  
  
It would be easier this way. She didn't need the inevitable heartache on top of everything else.  
  
"Roo?" her mother's voice cut through her thoughts, bringing them immediately to a halt. Rowan glanced up from the ornament in her hand.  
  
"Hm?" Rowan said.  
  
"Are you okay?" Dot asked, pinning a rather creepy looking bird to the tree. "You've seemed sort of distant lately and you've just spent a few minutes staring at that ornament."  
  
"I'm fine," Rowan said quickly, hanging Tinker Bell on one of the synthetic branches at last.  
  
"Are you sure? You've just seemed down lately, is all. Your dad's noticed too, you're just very quiet and you seem distracted. Is something on your mind? Is something going on at school? Are you and Shirley fighting or anything?" Dot was such a  _mother,_ it was frustrating. It was times like this that Rowan wished she had siblings. Perhaps if there were other children for Dot to fuss over, she wouldn't notice so much about Rowan. Dot  _always_  knew when something was going on. It was as though once one became a mother, one developed some kind of psychic sixth sense.  
  
Usually, when Dot pried, Rowan could talk to her about it. They had a decent relationship, a good one, even, but she wasn't about to relay that Shadow People were trying to kill her and she was developing feelings for a boy who just so happened to be _Jack Frost_. It wasn't like when she was little and told her mother about imaginary friends; she was twenty years old now. Any discussion of magic and invisible people as though they were real would land her in therapy now.  
  
"No, no, I'm just tired," Rowan said, hanging another ornament. "I mean, finals were kind of rough this semester, you know? And then I drove all the way back here, I just need to catch up on sleep."  
  
"Okay," Dot said skeptically. "But if something  _is_  going on, Roo, you know you can talk to me about anything."  
  
If only that were true. "Thanks, Mom, but really, it's nothing," Rowan insisted, glancing back at Tinker Bell, the small flecks of glitter on her dress glistening in the lights adorned on the tree. The two continued decorating, Rowan's father appearing toward the end to hang his ornaments, all made in the image of various science fiction characters (and a few pirates). Once the last ornament was hung, Rowan took a seat on the couch, glancing out the window at the gentle snowfall as her mother snapped a few pictures of their work.  
  
The snow only reminded her of Jack.  
  
"I'm going to take a walk," Rowan announced after a moment, walking toward the door and pulling on her boots.  
  
"It's going to be dark soon," Bill said.  
  
"I'll be back before that," Rowan said. She had to be.  
  
"Be careful, don't slip," Dot said, fiddling with her cell phone. She was no doubt sharing photos of the tree with everyone on social networking. Dot had more virtual friends than Rowan could dream of having.  
  
"I'll be fine," Rowan said, pulling on her coat.  
  
"Take your taser," Bill said.  
  
"Dad, they're not legal in this state," Rowan pointed out.  
  
"Take it anyway, we live with a lawyer," Bill said, waving her concern away. Dot cocked a brow at him. "Or not."  
  
"I'll be fine, I'll be back before the sun's down," Rowan stressed, slipping out the door before her father could insist on the stun gun yet again. She exhaled deeply, watching her breath fog before her before walking off. She walked a few blocks before squeezing through a chained gate toward a park. As it  _was_  getting close to nightfall and had begun to snow again, there were few people present in the park, which was fine with Rowan.  
  
The girl climbed a steep hill, plopping herself down on the top and pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she watched the lights in the not so far off homes illuminate. She watched the cars in the distance pass, the dancing Christmas lights flash.  
  
 _Something is trying to kill you_ , she remembered yet again, pulling her scarf over her nose and mouth for warmth. On top of all the conflict she had over Jack and her feelings for him, that was always a fact that had to come slithering back to the forefront of her mind. Maybe none of this mattered, because maybe she'd end up dead soon enough anyway.  
  
She was thinking about death far too much lately; she frowned as the grim thoughts flooded her mind again. What would happen if none of the attempts to keep her alive worked?  
  
The snow picked up, and she could feel a few of the snowflakes brush up against her cheeks as they fell.  
  
"Hi Jack," she said, pulling the scarf from in front of her mouth so she might speak clearly.  
  
"How'd you know I was here?" the winter spirit said with a smile, taking a seat next to her.  
  
"Kinda gave yourself away," she said, returning his smile as she held out her hand to catch some of the falling flakes.  
  
"Ha, yeah I guess I'll have to work on my stealth, huh?"  
  
"I can't imagine you being stealth at all, you're so loud and proud about what you do," she responded.  
  
"True," he replied. The two fell into silence for a moment and Jack turned to watch Rowan as she kept her eyes fixed on the distant neighborhoods. While she had smiled when he arrived and into their brief conversation, the smile was gone now and her expression was that of someone in thought.  
  
"You okay?" he asked.  
  
"I just... I keep thinking about everything going down you know?"  
  
"It's a lot to take in."  
  
"I keep coming back to the whole 'death' aspect."  
  
Jack was quiet for a moment before weakly offering, "Yeah, that's... understandable."  
  
"About a week before I graduated high school, a girl I was supposed to graduate with committed suicide," Rowan said in a matter-of-fact tone, turning back to face him. Jack's brow furrowed and he looked as though he were about to offer his condolences when Rowan cut him off. "I didn't know her very well, we weren't friends or anything. She was on a sports team, so, you know, the news was all over it; everyone was talking about it. Everyone was suddenly her best friend whenever a reporter would ask. Everyone had a class with her, everyone was going to miss her  _so badly._  It kind of became a competition to see who could be the saddest about it."  
  
"I'm kind of glad I never had to go to high school," Jack commented.  
  
"You should be  _very_  glad, honestly," Rowan said. "I remember when my parents found out and they showed her picture on the news. The first thing out of their mouths was, 'It's such a shame. She was such a pretty girl.' Like being pretty meant anything to her or made her life any better. Or it made the loss worse than if she'd been plain looking."  
  
Rowan bit her lip and eyes darting back to the neighborhoods and streets ahead. "I don't know, I guess... I guess I wonder what they'd say about me, you know? Would my classmates pretend we were best friends? Would my professors exaggerate my performance in class and claim they always looked forward to having me there? Would people see my picture with the obituary and say, 'It's such a shame, she was so pretty?' Or maybe, 'It's such a shame, she had the potential to be pretty?' or 'It's such a shame, she was so young?' Who would come to my funeral?  
  
"They have a plaque for her at the high school now. A young, tragic death  _does_  seem to be the surest way to immortality," Rowan said, finally glancing back at Jack.  
  
"I can't really argue with that last point," Jack said sheepishly. What else did one really say to such a speech?  
  
"I'm sorry I'm just... dumping all this on you, I just can't really go up to my mother or anything and be all, 'so these Shadow People are trying to kill me and it's making me think of my mortality a lot' without someone trying to get me committed. Not that I'd blame them," Rowan sighed.  
  
"Hey, if there's anyone you can talk to about this, it's me," Jack said, offering her a smile and a friendly nudge with his elbow. "And I'm going to do everything possible to make sure that you don't have to worry about the whole 'death' thing any time soon."  
  
"Thanks. Speaking of which, how did your meeting with Santa- I mean, North, go?" Rowan asked suddenly, remembering that it was where Jack had disappeared to today. He'd been vague about what it was about, but had implied that it had something to do with her and helping with the Shadow People.  
  
"Differently than I expected… he told me about his wife," Jack said.  
  
"He's got a wife?" Rowan asked, raising a brow.  
  
"Well.  _Had._  She died a few centuries ago; she was mortal," Jack explained.  
  
"That's… really sad," Rowan said, focused on the horizon once more. "Sun's starting to set, let's start heading back to the house?"  
  
"Sounds good," Jack said, pulling himself to his feet and offering her a hand to help her up. She took it, shivering slightly at his touch before they headed for the gates that Rowan had slipped through to get to the park. Jack began to relay what had happened during the meeting with North to her as they walked. He spoke of Yelena in the briefest of terms, though Rowan's curiosity was peaked when it was revealed the woman had been a Mortal Muse. Their story seemed romantic, touching, but all and all, very sad.  
  
Added to the list of reasons why she should not be thinking of Jack Frost in the ways she had been.  
  
By the time they reached the house and Rowan set her snow-covered boots by the door, Jack began to tell her about the other matter he'd discussed with North: the vote. She briefly greeted her parents, who were glued to some crime drama on television, in order to let them know she had returned home, before walking with Jack to her room as he continued speaking.  
  
"So, the sparknotes version is that this Pitch Black guy knows how to keep the Shadow People from making a meal of my or anyone else's soul," Rowan said a short wile later, lying atop her bed, her head dangling over the edge as she watched Jack upside down. He was seated cross-legged in her desk chair, tilting his head slightly as though to make eye contact better.  
  
"Yes," Jack said with a nod.  
  
"And that there's going to be a vote to decide if you guys are going to negotiate with this guy  _for_  the information. The guy that tried to kill my little cousin," Rowan said, her distaste for the idea clear in her voice. She had never met this Boogie Man, but Jack and Jamie's stories were enough to leave her with a grudge of her own.  
  
"I don't like it either, but it really is our best option right now," Jack frowned. "And, actually, you're technically part of the alliance so you get a vote."  
  
"What, me?" Rowan said, sitting upright suddenly and turning so that she could properly face Jack. "I don't know enough about _any_  of this to vote, Jack! All I know is that he tried to kill my cousin so I don't trust him, and you're my friend and I trust  _you_ so that already has me conflicted between the two options here."  
  
"You trust me now, hm?" Jack smirked.  
  
"You're ignoring the problem here," Rowan said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.  
  
"Right, well, according to the Big Book of the Guardians-"  
  
"Is that what it's officially called?"  
  
"I don't think so. Anyway, according to that, you either show up to vote, or you can decline your right to vote in writing. So, I figure you just write something out and I'll take it with me to the meeting," Jack said.  
  
"Sounds like the best option, I guess," Rowan said, reaching for her notebook and a pen. "Is there like a certain format I'm supposed to write it in?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Jack said as she tore a blank page carefully from the notebook.  
  
"I'll just… wing it, I guess," Rowan said, placing pen to paper and beginning to write as neatly as she could manage. "This meeting's tomorrow, right?"  
  
"Yeah, it is," Jack said. The girl signed her name on the page, with a large loops and twirls.  
  
"Here," Rowan said, handing him the piece of paper before capping her pen. Jack glanced down at the page, reading what she'd written before carefully folding it and placing it within his jacket's front pocket.  
  
"Looks good to me," he said.  
  
"So this is just going to be the Guardians and Muses voting, then?"  
  
"And the sun, and Manny," Jack said.  
  
"Do you think you guys will win?" she asked.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure how the Muses will vote."  
  
Rowan frowned. "Well. Good luck."  
  
"Thanks," Jack said. The pair fell into silence, which seemed to be becoming commonplace after discussing such serious matters.  
  
Rowan glanced at the floor, unsure what to say now, eyes fixed on the area beside her bed that Jack had slept upon the night before. He had reminded her of an Egyptian sarcophagus with his staff crossed over his chest as he settled himself into what he had insisted was a comfortable position.  
  
"Jack," she said after a moment.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're not sleeping on the floor again," she said, glancing back up at him.  
  
"It's no big deal, really," the boy said quickly. "I mean, the floor's nice, I don't mind."  
  
"Jack, it's a, um, double bed," she said, feeling her cheeks turn pink as she stated as much, avoiding his eyes. Suggesting that they start sharing a bed was entirely counter-productive to her plan to avoid temptation and falling any harder for him.  
  
"That it is," Jack said hesitantly.  
  
"Look, I mean, the bed's plenty big enough and it's not like we haven't shared one before. We're both adults here, it doesn't have to be weird, right?" Rowan said hesitantly, finally meeting his eyes again. He looked about as nervous as she felt, and she wasn't sure if she should take that as comforting or not. "I have a lamp here too, so you could read, I'll just sleep on that side."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
Was she sure? She kept telling herself that this was a completely platonic thing. She just didn't want him sleeping on the floor and being uncomfortable when he was there protecting  _her_. Offering up some of the extra room on her mattress was the least she could do, right?  
  
Yeah, it had nothing to do with the fact that she liked the way he smelled and when he'd wrap his arms around her after a nightmare. She certainly hadn't considered the notion of Jack being in her bed with her and doing-  
  
Rowan shook the thought from her mind. "Yeah, it'll be fine," she said hastily. This would all be so much easier, she decided, if she hadn't seen him shirtless. He just had to be in shape, didn't he? All she wanted to do was touch him and-  
  
"I mean, I just don't want to make you cold or anything," Jack said nervously, pulling her from her thoughts again.  
  
"I've got a quilt, you'll be fine," she said.  
  
"Well, if you want me in your bed  _that badly,_  Sawyer," Jack said suggestively, laughing slightly.  
  
Rowan's mind was immediately wandering back to a place it shouldn't. Again. Icy, pale skin. Soft, messy hair. Big, blue eyes. The twirling frost designs he left behind whenever he touched her. Goosebumps, hearts racing.  
  
Forget just wanting one kiss, her goddamn hormones were now begging her for  _one night_.  
  
"Don't flatter yourself, Frost," she said. It took everything within her to keep the nonchalant expression on her face.  
  


* * *

  
  
Jack hadn't visited the pole with such frequency since the entire affair with Pitch months earlier. Standing nervously near Tooth, who was speaking with Erato in hushed tones about something he was sure he couldn't care less about, he took a moment to at least be glad that North hadn't sent the Yetis for him this time. He'd followed the signal sent out, just like the others had.  
  
When Bunny emerged from his tunnel nearby, it left only Clio that the rest of them were waiting on. Bunny barely greeted the others before going to talk to North. They spoke quietly enough so that Jack could not hear, though he was certain it had something to do with whether or not North had told Jack about Yelena yet.  
  
North's story and subsequent encouragement to pursue something with Rowan somehow just managed to make Jack even more unsure of what he should do. At least if he and Bunny were both on the "don't start anything with Rowan" page, he could just be an ass and do the opposite.  
  
He'd woken up that morning after falling asleep atop her covers to find that in his sleep he'd somehow wandered over to her and hooked an arm around her waist. His face had been buried in her soft hair.  
  
He had quickly inched away before she could wake up and notice. Arguably the simplest solution to his problems (well, his "I have a crush on a mortal" problems, anyway) would be to just admit to it and get it over-with. But he still wasn't sure if the night she'd kissed him on the cheek had been a dream or not. He found himself possibly more nervous about the thought of her rejecting him than this meeting about Pitch. They had such a nice friendship going on already, and the fact that he  _had_  to stay with her every night until they got this sorted out would make any rejection just that much more awkward.  
  
The story with Yelena had him torn between seizing the moment before it was gone forever and holding back to avoid the seemingly inevitable heartache. It seemed that North and Bunny each had made the points they wanted to through the story and left Jack completely confused about what to do in the process.  
  
All he knew was that one way or another, she was going to die. He just had to make sure it wasn't because of the Shadow People. That he protected her like he had promised Jamie that he would. That he enjoyed his time with her while he could.  
  
He wasn't sure if there was room for romance there.  
  
"How does a time traveler run late? Honestly, though," Calliope mumbled, drawing Jack from his thoughts.  
  
"The winds  _were_  a bit rough, she might just be having a hard time getting here," Polyhymnia pointed out gently. She was one of the taller Muses, perhaps the same height as Melpomene, but somehow managed not to be so intimidating. Her voice was soothing.  
  
"I really hope this meeting presents some new information," Urania said, lightly stroking her moonbeam. With the new moon less than a week away, all of the moonbeams were noticeably smaller, dimmer, than they had been at the last meeting. Urania seemed tired; Jack wondered when the last time she slept might have been.  
  
Clio flew, less than gracefully, in from the opening in the ceiling. The mechanical wings attached to her back were coated in ice and her hair was disheveled from the wind. She landed sloppily and quickly retracted her wings, leaving a pile of ice as she pulled off her goggles and tried to straighten her curls.  
  
"You couldn't ease up on the blizzards, could you, Frost?" Clio groaned.  
  
"Sorry," Jack said absentmindedly. The Muses? Giving him a hard time about doing his job? How original.  
  
" _See_ ," Polyhymnia said to Calliope before walking over to Clio and beginning to brush snow off the shorter Muse's shoulders.  
  
"Go ahead, Jack," North said. "Everyone is here."  
  
Suddenly every eye was on him. He fidgeted slightly, clearing his throat nervously. He hadn't expected to have to be the one to speak right away, to explain what the meeting was about.  
  
The fact that quite a few of the Muses simply expected him to say something stupid, to screw up somehow, was not easing his nerves at all.  
  
"I asked North to call this meeting because, as far as I'm concerned, it's becoming pretty obvious that we need another plan of attack," Jack said, hoping to convey more confidence than he currently possessed. "The Shadow People know that Rowan's the Mortal Muse and it's only a matter of time before they find her again. The new moon is coming and Manny won't be able to help us. We need to find out what we can do about the Shadow People  _now_ , before it's too late. We can't wait for Christmas… I asked North to call this meeting so that we can vote on whether or not to make a deal with Pitch for the information we need."  
  
" _What!?"_  Bunny was the first to say anything, clearly appalled. The Muses began to whisper among themselves, Melpomene's lips twisting into a smile.  
  
There was always something unsettling about Melpomene smiling.  
  
"You all know how the vote works. We will present both sides and then obtain a 'yay' or 'nay' from everyone individually," North said, his huge voice calling everyone's attention back to the meeting.  
  
"We can't vote," Calliope said at once. "The protocol is that every member of the alliance must vote and as it is, they are not all present."  
  
"Oh, right, the Mortal Muse," Terpsichore said thoughtfully.  
  
Jack reached into his pocket, pulling out Rowan's note before approaching Calliope and handing it to her without a word. The eldest Muse eyed the paper quizzically before plucking it from his grasp and unfolding it.  
  
"I, Rowan Sawyer, as the acknowledged Mortal Muse, do hereby decline my right to vote at the meeting of the Guardians and Muses dated December Tenth," Calliope read aloud, a scowl immediately coming to her face before she folded the note once more.  
  
"So, we proceed," North said, though he was frowning as well. Jack could only guess that the pair had hoped to void the results or postpone this vote on a technicality.  
  
"And what about Apollo and Tsar Lunar's votes?" Calliope said.  
  
"They must have known," Urania said, pulling two folded pieces of parchment from within her vest. "They sent me with these."  
  
"You know the procedure," Calliope sighed. Urania approached North, standing before him and holding out the papers before her.  
  
"Urania," North said, "Do you swear that to the best of your knowledge, these votes have not been seen or tampered with while in your possession?"  
  
"I do," said Urania. North nodded, taking the papers from Urania's hands and lightly setting them atop the thick Guardians' handbook, resting on its alter.  
  
"Now we present both sides," North said.  
  
"Fine, Pitch is the physical embodiment of fear," Bunny said, stepping toward the center of the group in order to command everyone's attention. "For years we've fought  _against_  him, and it's not in his nature for him to be forgiving or cooperative. The argument is that he knows the darkness better than the rest of us, he'll know how to defeat the Shadow People. The fact that he knows the darkness so well is exactly why we  _shouldn't_  trust him. Inviting him in to our circle and expecting him to be benevolent is  _foolishness._ "  
  
The Muses began to mumble among themselves again. Calliope stepped forward, standing beside Bunny. "Pitch has acted against this alliance numerous times in the past. The most recent and terrible example was his, thankfully temporary, elimination of the Sandman. We can negotiate with him all we want, but his best interests will always be with his own well-being, not ours. We cannot cozy up to a lesser threat in response to a larger one."  
  
More mumbling. The Guardians mostly remained silent. Tooth's brow was furrowed, she seemed conflicted.  
  
"Would anyone else like to speak against making a deal with Pitch?" North asked. The group was silent. Calliope and Bunny returned to their respective places in the group. "Fine. Those in favor of making a deal may now present their case."  
  
Melpomene did not need to be asked twice, stepping gracefully into the center of the group and turning to address the others. "You all know exactly what I'm going to say: the light cannot exist without the dark. You like to think that you've got it all figured out but the darkness still baffles you. That is why we need Pitch, because his information is the flip side of the coin. We cannot hope to win this with only half the information. We need balance. We need the comedy to our tragedy, the dark to our light. It would do you all well to remember your own darkness, to remember that you are not so far above Pitch as you believe yourselves to be. We are not all black and white, but various shades of grey. He's not so different as you think he is.  
  
"He is also weak. There is little he could do to harm any of us at this point. The Shadow People are doing him more harm than good. He  _will_  negotiate, he  _will_  bargain, and he  _will_  cooperate because he needs them out of the picture as much as we do."  
  
More mumbling among the Muses.  
  
"Anyone else?" North asked. Jack swallowed before stepping beside Melpomene, careful to look anywhere  _but_  at the Muse beside him. Even standing so close made him uncomfortable.  
  
"Like I said before, the new moon is only a few days away. The moonbeams won't be any help. If the Shadow People attack with bigger numbers, I don't know that I'll be able to defeat them. A great deal of you have an astonishingly low opinion of my abilities in the first place," he cast Calliope an annoyed glance, "This would seem a strange instance to decide to have confidence in them. If I thought there was another way to do this, I'd vote against it. I don't  _want_  to ask Pitch for help. We have to."  
  
Before another word could be uttered from anyone else, Jack returned to his spot with the Guardians, beside Tooth.  
  
"Is that all?" North asked. When he received no response, Melpomene strolled back to her place between Polyhymnia and Thalia. "Then we vote."  
  
"For those who may have forgotten, we vote Guardians first, then Muses, oldest to youngest. I will address the Guardians; Nicholas will address the Muses. If you are in favor of making a deal with Pitch, you vote 'yay.' If you are opposed, 'nay,'" Calliope said. She approached Sandy first, kneeling down to the floor in order to be on the small Guardian's level.  
  
"Sanderson Mansnoozie, Guardian of Dreams, how do you vote?"  
  
Sandy smiled nervously at the Muse before giving her the thumbs up. Calliope's brow furrowed and she was very clearly taken aback. She opened her mouth to speak before immediately closing it. Finally, she pulled herself to her feet, no longer looking in the small man's direction.  
  
"That's one yay," she mumbled, lips pursed, before approaching North, looking up at him. "Nicholas St. North, Guardian of Wonder, how do you vote?"  
  
"Nay," North said without hesitation. Calliope nodded and walked to Bunny.  
  
"E. Aster Bunnymund, Guardian of Hope, how do you vote?"  
  
"Nay," Bunny said with the same confidence that North had voted.  
  
Calliope moved down the line. "Toothiana, Guardian of Memories, how do you vote?"  
  
Tooth hesitated. Her eyes darted among the other Guardians and the Muses, particularly Erato, whom she had been speaking to earlier. The conflict was clear in her face, and Jack was ready to suggest that perhaps she just decline to vote all together.  
  
"Yay," she said suddenly, eyes fixed on the floor, unable to face Calliope, whose eyes narrowed before she left Tooth where she was and approached Jack.  
  
"Jackson Overland Frost, Guardian of Fun, how do you vote?"  
  
"Yay," Jack said. Calliope turned her heel, walking to rejoin the Muses.  
  
"Thus far, three in favor, two opposed, one vote declined," Calliope said as she took her place.  
  
Jack swallowed nervously as North walked over to start addressing the Muses. So far, he was ahead. He was still a little surprised that Tooth had voted with him, but it would be a lie to say it had not been a relief to hear her vote. There were still nine Muses, however, and this all could change.  
  
"Calliope, Muse of Epic Poetry, how do you vote?" North asked.  
  
"Nay," Calliope said at once, casting Sandy a glance but briefly.  
  
"Clio, Muse of History, how do you vote?" asked North as he moved down the line to the next oldest Muse.  
  
"Nay," Clio said. Jack winced. Perhaps he'd been too confident too early.  
  
"Erato, Muse of Love Poetry, how do you vote?"  
  
"Yay."  
  
"Polyhymnia, Muse of Hymns, how do you vote?"  
  
"Nay."  
  
Jack did the math in his head. Those opposed were now ahead, but Melpomene was next to vote, and he knew she would at least vote with him. It was strange being on her side about something. It was something that hadn't happened in a very, very long time.  
  
"Melpomene, Muse of Tragedy, how do you vote?"  
  
"Yay," Melpomene said, her unsettling smile still fixed on her face.  
  
"Thalia, Muse of Comedy, how do you vote?"  
  
The small blonde nervously glanced in the direction of the Muses that had already voted before saying, "Yay."  
  
"Urania, Muse of Astronomy, how do you vote?"  
  
"Yay."  
  
"Terpsichore, Muse of Dance, how do you vote?"  
  
Terpischore glanced at the others as well, biting her lip before finally saying, "Nay."  
  
"Euterpe, Muse of Song, how do you vote?"  
  
Euterpe hesitated, swallowing and staring at the floor. Jack held his breath. So far they were ahead. But if she voted against them, she could potentially put the vote in a tie for the sun and moon to break.  
  
"Euterpe?" North repeated.  
  
"Yay," the youngest Muse said at last.  
  
"Now we read the votes from the sun and moon," North said, approaching the parchment. "Those in favor of speaking with Pitch only need one of the two votes to win."  
  
"However if both of them vote 'nay,' the vote is a tie, and we vote again at a later time," Calliope added.  
  
"Precisely," North said, approaching the folded sheets of parchment. He took the vote with a crescent moon stamped atop it, while Calliope took the other. This one featured an outline of a circle with a solid circle within it: the astrological symbol for the sun.  
  
Unfolding the page before him, North read the vote and sighed. "The Man in the Moon has voted in favor of negotiating with Pitch."  
  
"You have  _got_  to be  _kidding_  me!" Bunny said at once, unable to keep quiet. He approached North who let him look at the sheet. The rabbit shook his head, irritation clear on his face.  
  
"Apollo… has also voted in favor," Calliope said, practically throwing the parchment back onto the alter and stomping off toward her place with the Muses, arms crossed before her. Sandy floated over to her on one of his dream clouds, and she simply waved the small man away as though he were a fly of some kind. Sandy simply rolled his eyes before returning to his place with the Guardians.  
  
Jack leaned against the nearby railing in disbelief. They'd gotten the votes, with room to spare! He was torn between being thrilled about this or not. A small part of him was sort of hoping they'd lose so he wouldn't have to deal with Pitch, but keeping Rowan safe was more important. Far more important.  
  
"It is settled, then," North said. "We will offer Pitch protection in exchange for information we can use to stop the Shadow People."  
  
 _"All_  the information he has on the Shadow People," Jack said.  
  
"Right, right,  _all_  of it," North nodded. "This will, of course, be a temporary arrangement. As soon as the Shadow People are taken care of, all deals are off."  
  
"That part's fine with me," Bunny muttered.  
  
"Fine, Melpomene, go get him," Calliope said. "Thalia, go with her, I don't want anything funny happening."  
  
"So you're sending along the Muse of Comedy. Good call, Calliope, this is why you're our leader," Thalia said as she and Melpomene began to fasten their masks in place. Calliope glared at the younger Muse who visibly winced under her gaze.  
  
"Right, right, we're going," Thalia said, linking arms with Melpomene.  
  
In the next instant, the pair was gone.


	26. The Devil's Got Your Number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I'm going to be bringing in some (drum roll) book canon! Though I should mention that I have not finished the books (I'm actually still on the first one because school is eating my life right now) so I'm going off of a lot of things I've read about the books. Basically my plan when it comes to the books and this story is that if I can make something from the books work, I'll use it, otherwise this is strictly based on the film. Hopefully it works out! On to the chapter!

__"I am Spartacus!"_ _

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six: The Devil's Got Your Number**

* * *

  
  
"At the North Pole by personal invitation, never thought I'd see the day," Pitch said, shaking off Thalia, whose hand was still around his wrist from the trip over. She removed her mask and walked to re-join the other Muses while Melpomene remained close to Pitch's side. When she pulled away  _her_  mask, Jack had to make a conscious effort to avoid rolling his eyes. That terrible smile was still fixed on her face.  
  
It was rare for Thalia to remove her grinning mask to reveal a neutral expression. Even rarer for Melpomene to tuck away the weeping tragedy mask to reveal a smile. Something terrible  _had_  to happen whenever she smiled. Like kittens dying or printers failing to work ten minutes before a deadline.   
  
"Neither did I," North said, arms crossed and usually wide eyes narrowed at the frail man before him. Jack had to admit that Pitch  _did_  look worse for wear. His stature was slightly smaller, made more obvious as he stood by Melpomene, who wore heels despite her already tall frame. His cheeks were more hollow than usual and eyes seemed sunken, encircled by shadows.  
  
"Be aware, Mr. Black, that though you achieved a majority vote, there are still a great deal of us that do not wish for you to be here," Calliope said.  
  
"I implore you to remember that while we have our disagreements, I am not an idiot," was Pitch's response. "After all, isn't that why I'm here? My  _knowledge?"_  
  
"Your knowledge is simply a means to an end," Clio said.  
  
"We will offer you protection from the Shadow People," North said, speaking as though the words left a sour taste in his mouth. "Manny will provide a moonbeam, you will be temporarily, for all intents and purposes, part of this alliance. But in return, you must provide us with  _everything_  you know about the Shadow People and how to defeat them."  
  
"Can I throw a few more conditions in there?" Jack asked, stepping over.  
  
"Ah, Jack Frost, I hear you're responsible for my presence here," Pitch said with a smirk.  
  
"I was only one vote," Jack said. He truly hoped this wasn't all going to be pinned on him. If something went wrong, that meant he was going to be on the receiving end of a lot of disdain. He was used to that from the Muses but he wasn't really willing to have North and Bunny disappointed in him again.  
  
"But you  _called_  the vote," Pitch pointed out.  
  
"What conditions, Jack?" North said.  
  
"As a member of this alliance, you can't actively work against anyone in this alliance, that's including the Mortal Muse," Jack said.  
  
"I won't lay a finger on your little girlfriend," Pitch said. Jack darted his eyes away, feeling his cheeks getting slightly less cold at the implication. "Though I assume this means none of you will be bringing any harm  _my_  way."  
  
"Not as long as you  _behave yourself,"_  Bunny grumbled.  
  
"So, as soon as either side breaks this agreement the alliance between all of you and me is void and we're free to start killing each other as per usual," Pitch said with a short nod.  
  
"I'd like to add that any lover's squabbles you might have with Melpomene shouldn't count," Thalia pipped in, twirling her mask about by the ribbon.  
  
"That's separate from this alliance," Melpomene said. Pitch nodded shortly.  
  
"The alliance is also void once the Shadow People are taken care of, I doubt you desire to remain affiliated with us for longer than that," North said.  
  
"Absolutely not," Pitch agreed. "Isn't it lovely how mutual hatred can bring people together, North? Look at us agreeing that we don't want to see each others ugly faces for longer than necessary. It's almost nice. Makes me somewhat sick."  
  
"The feeling is mutual."  
  
"See?"  
  
"So how do we determine that the Shadow People have been 'taken care of' to the point where the agreement's reached its end?" Tooth asked.  
  
"I'd say when the stars stop telling me we're in immediate danger," Urania said. "When the Shadow People are back to their previous, disorganized state."  
  
"And what of the new moon?" Pitch asked. "You've promised protection and a moonbeam, however the moonbeams will be useless during that time."  
  
"Based on your information, we will provide you with protection the night of the new moon," North said.  
  
“Very well, anything else?” Pitch asked. A few images flashed above Sandy’s head. “What’s he saying?”  
  
“That you can’t mess with his dream sand or the agreement is off,” Calliope said, still avoiding meeting Sandy’s eyes.  
  
“I will not mess with the children’s dreams,” Pitch said with a sigh and a slight roll of the eyes. “So have we got a deal?”  
  
“Does anyone have anything else to add?” Bunny asked, addressing the others.  
  
“You will not interfere with Christmas,” North said.  
  
“Which sort of falls under my earlier condition,” Jack said.  
  
“No playing Grinch, got it,” Pitch said, arms crossed before him.  
  
“And leave my fairies alone or you’ll be losing  _another_  tooth,” said Tooth, clenching her hands into fists to further emphasize her point.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Anyone else?”  
  
When no one responded, North stepped forward and held out his hand to Pitch. “Then we have a deal,” he said reluctantly, and the boogie man reached forward to take the man’s large hand and shake it.  
  
The handshake was brief, and each man seemed exceptionally uncomfortable throughout the duration.  
  
“Start talking, Pitch,” Bunny said.  
  
"The Shadow People are a magical sort of darkness, similar to my nightmares but just different enough to be a threat to myself and a mystery to the rest of you,” Pitch began, everyone’s attention fixed on him as he spoke, his voice as smooth as always. “The major difference between them and the nightmares is that the Shadow People are of a brand of magic that originated here, on Earth. It's said that they emerged from the darkest corners of the underworld.  
  
"The natural predator to the Shadow People is, of course, light. But as you've likely discovered already, artificial light does not work as well as the sun. This is because  _starlight_  is the kind of light required to completely eliminate a Shadow Person. This is why they hide during the day."  
  
"Well, all right, that makes sense, I’m not sure we needed you to figure  _that_  out," Urania said at once. "I mean, the sun is a star. The moon gets its light from the sun, and therefore the moonbeams are actually made of starlight."   
  
"And my staff?" Jack asked, twirling the item in question about in his hands.   
  
“That I haven’t been able to figure out,” Urania said.  
  
"It's full of Lunar magic, the light it gives off is a weaker form of starlight, but it’s starlight, nonetheless,” Pitch said. “Enough to take care of a few Shadow People but it would never be effective against all of them.”  
  
Jack frowned, he’d been afraid that would be the case.  
  
"Starlight is not the only thing that can be used against them. No, the item that will likely be more useful to the rest of you is _stardust,"_  Pitch said. Sandy's eyes immediately lit up and he began creating fantastic shapes with his dream sand, which danced excitedly around the pole, knocking out a few elves that dared venture too close.  
  
"Precisely," Pitch said, sounding almost bored. "The Sandman's dream sand is a form of stardust, and can be used against the Shadow People. My nightmare sand doesn't work because it's  _corrupt_  dream sand."  
  
"Stardust! So obvious," Urania groaned, cursing under her breath for having not figured this out on her own.  
  
"You informed us of so much, Urania, don't be upset that you did not inform us of this," Polyhymnia said, patting the small Muse on her shoulder.  
  
"I should have figured it out, Poly!" Urania sighed. "I'm the Muse of Astronomy!"  
  
"It's fine, we know now," Erato said.  
  
"So, we need weapons crafted with stardust," North said.  
  
"Don't you already have a ton of those?" Bunny asked.  
  
"Many were lost or destroyed in past battles. The Nightmares took their toll on the swords I usually use. I  _could_  use them against the Shadow People but they would not work as well as they once did. I will have to make more weapons, but..." North trailed off.  
  
"But what?" Tooth asked.  
  
"The amount of stardust I have is not even enough for a small blade," North sighed.  
  
"Can't we use the dream sand?" Jack asked.  
  
"No, Sandy’s brand of stardust is  _too_  magical, does not react well when used to create weapons, it must remain in its current state," North said. "We need stardust from the stars for weapons."  
  
"I can go harvest some, but traveling  _to_  a star instead of just close enough to communicate better... I won't be back for a while," Urania said. "I can make it there and back in two weeks if I hurry."  
  
"That's Christmas Eve," Jack groaned.  _Two weeks?_  The entire point of soliciting Pitch's help was to attempt to get things sorted out  _before_  Christmas.  
  
"I know," Urania sighed. "But in the meantime at least Sandy can help keep everyone safe and it won't all fall to you, Jack."  
  
"I'm going with you, Urania," Clio said at once. "I've been wanting to test my wings out there anyway and you can bring back more stardust with an extra set of hands."  
  
"Me too," Bunny said. "I can't fly but I'm no stranger to the stars, and I'm tired of waiting around here for things to go wrong."  
  
“I have some wings that are much too big for me but should fit you just fine, Aster,” Clio said thoughtfully.  
  
"Can you both be ready to go when the meeting's through?" Urania asked.  
  
"Absolutely," Clio said. “Just have to stop by my workshop to get those wings.”  
  
"Definitely," said Bunny.  
  
"There is  _one_  weapon that I am still in possession of..." North said.   
  
“What’s that?” Jack asked.  
  
“I will be needing the Muses and Pitch to wait here and the Guardians to come with me. Ladies, I am sure you can handle the Boogie Man on your own for a few minutes?” North said.  
  
“Let him try to pull anything,” Clio said, removing what appeared to be a strange-looking gun from her belt and casually pointing it in his direction.  
  
“Are you certain that man-made contraption will be able to do anything to harm me?” Pitch said, eyeing the weapon in Clio’s hand.  
  
“I’m sure it’ll hurt a lot, do anything funny and we can  _all_  find out,” Clio said.  
  
“You’re not going to do  _anything_  to call her off, are you?” Pitch said to Melpomene.  
  
“I told you, Thalia’s the only one that listens to me. Besides, I like it when you squirm,” Melpomene laughed, taking a few steps away from Pitch in order to get out of the line of fire.  
  
“I think we’ll be fine,” Calliope said to North, arms crossed before her as she watched her “sisters” surround the Boogie Man and eye him critically.  
  
“Very good. Guardians, follow me,” North said. Jack cast Tooth a curious glance and the fairy simply shrugged, indicating that she had no idea what was going on either.   
  
North lead the Guardians into his workshop and closed the door behind him, careful to lock it before approaching the far wall and kicking aside a rug. This section of floor had a small groove in the wood that could be used as a handle, and edges that ran along the wood in such a way that it was difficult to see unless one was looking for them. Jack realized quickly that it was some kind of trap door.  
  
The North Pole was just full of secrets.  
  
Pulling the door open, North began to climb down the ladder that was revealed and deep down into a dark room. The other Guardians glanced nervously at each other as they heard items being shuffled around and a few crashes before the old man returned, a chest cradled under one arm.  
  
When North set down the chest, the others were able to get a better look at it. It was hand crafted and sturdy, with the phases of the moon carved skillfully into the lid. North fiddled with several different knobs atop the box before it opened, revealing the strangest looking sword that Jack had ever seen, if it was even a sword at all. It was golden, with a large, shining orb that held a crescent moon at the end. The handle read: Tsar Lunar XI.  
  
"North, you haven't used this in centuries," Tooth said.  
  
"What is it?" Jack asked.  
  
"It's Tsar Lunar XI's sword, one of the most powerful weapons on the planet," Bunny said.   
  
"It can mimic the light of the sun and the moon," North said, gently lifting the precious relic from its casing. "It will serve you well, Tooth."  
  
"What, me?!" the fairy said immediately, eyes wide. “The sword was given to  _you_ , North.”  
  
"And I said I would wield it wisely and well, which is what I am doing by giving it to you for now. I  _have_  to work on Christmas, I cannot join Jack and Sandy in keeping the Shadow People at bay. But you can, with this," North said, holding the sword out to her. She stared at it nervously.  
  
"North, I haven't even  _held_  a sword in centuries," she said.  
  
North stood a bit straighter, staring Tooth directly in the eyes. "Are you or are you not Toothiana of the Sisters of Flight?"  
  
"North-" Tooth started again.  
  
"He's right, Tooth, you're one of the best swordsmen- swordswomen?- there's ever been," Bunny said. "With North busy with Christmas, me out harvesting stardust with Urania and Clio, and Pitch hanging around… the others are going to need your help with this."  
  
Images began forming above Sandy’s head, many of which seemed to be Tooth’s silhouette wielding a sword. He was nodding in an encouraging manner.  
  
"The Muses can stay with you during the new moon. With this, you will all be safe," North said.  
  
Tooth stared at the sword for a moment longer before sighing deeply and reaching forward, gently taking the weapon from North's hands. The device looked as though it weighed a ton, but Tooth held it with ease, and it began to glow in her grasp.  
  
“Why haven’t you used this in so long?” Jack asked. Surely it would have been useful against the Nightmares a few months back, being as powerful as the others said it was.  
  
“The power it has is very great, so great that I fear what may happen if it is used too frequently. That kind of power is a dangerous thing. As soon as the Shadow People are taken care of, the sword will be returned to its place,” North said, taking the chest he’d stored the sword in and climbing back down the ladder to put it away.  
  
The nerves were clear in Tooth’s face as she cradled the sword in her hands, eyes fixed on the magnificent craftsmanship on the alien material.  
  
“You’re gonna do fine,” Jack said, offering her a smile which she returned.  
  
“Thanks,” she replied.  
  
North returned, closing the trap door and replacing the rug that had been covering it before the door to his workshop unlocked and the group returned to the Muses, Clio still aiming her own weapon at Pitch’s skull.  
  
“How did everything go here?” North asked as they approached.  
  
“Boring,” Thalia pouted. Her eyes lit up, however, as soon as Tooth came into view with the sword in hand. “Oooh, what’s that, Tooth?”  
  
“Oh,  _that_  blasted thing,” Pitch said, wincing as soon as he saw the weapon. Clio tucked away her own strangely crafted gun and watched the device Tooth held curiously as well.  
  
“It’s the sword of Tsar Lunar’s late father,” Urania said, eyes seeming to become wider than usual as she approached Tooth in order to examine it closer. “Judging by Pitch’s information, it would be  _exceptionally_  useful against the Shadow People.”  
  
“If the Muses stay with Tooth at her palace during the new moon, she will be more than capable of keeping you all safe with this,” North said to Calliope.  
  
“That sounds excellent,” Calliope said. “Thank you.”  
  
“As far as Pitch goes,” Bunny started. Sandy smirked, his dream sand whips appearing in his hands. “Looks like Sandy’ll keep an eye on  _him_  during the new moon.”  
  
“Oh  _good,”_  Pitch winced again.  
  
“Now that that’s sorted out, the deal was that you would tell us  _everything_  you know about the Shadow People,” Erato said to Pitch.  
  
“Right, right, well, as you all probably figured out, the Shadow People will be at their strongest during the new moon. This means they’ll be at their  _weakest_  during the full moon. If you plan on attacking them and eliminating them as a threat, it would be wise to do so during that time,” Pitch explained.  
  
“The next full moon is right after Christmas, there is no way we will have the weapons ready in time,” North sighed.  
  
“We’ll have to shoot for the one at the end of January,” Urania said. “But that means we’ll have another new moon to worry about, too.”  
  
“But we  _should_  have the weapons by then, right?” Jack asked.  
  
“Certainly,” North nodded.  
  
“What else?” Terpsichore asked Pitch.  
  
“There’s the matter of location,” Pitch said. “The best place to take care of the Shadow People is a location full of magic that will work in your favor. Lunar magic or solar magic.”  
  
“Where would that be?” Jack asked, confused.  
  
“Burgess,” Tooth said at once. “That place is  _full_  of lunar magic.”  
  
“How do you figure that?” Euterpe asked.  
  
“It’s where the last immortal being the moon created was, well, created,” Calliope said, gesturing to Jack. “It’s where the Guardians defeated Pitch last time and where Jack took his oath to  _become_  a Guardian. Tooth’s right, the magic hasn’t had a chance to really fade out yet.”  
  
“The Mortal Muse was also born in Burgess,” North said. “And the amount of magic in Jamie Bennett’s belief  _alone_  is astounding.”  
  
“So basically we have to defeat the Shadow People in Burgess on the full moon,” Bunny said. “How exactly do we get them all there?”  
  
“Bait them,” Melpomene said with a shrug.  
  
“With what?” said Clio.  
  
“What do they want?” said Melpomene.  
  
“We can’t use Rowan Sawyer as bait, it’s too risky,” Tooth said.  
  
“Why would we need to use her when we’ve got us?” Melpomene said, gesturing to herself and Thalia. Thalia eyed the other Muse, confused for a moment before Melpomene held up her mask.  
  
 _“Oooh,”_  Thalia said, eyes lighting up as she realized what Melpomene was implying. She put her mask to her face and upon removing it, looked exactly like Rowan. If Rowan enjoyed wearing harlequin-inspired garb. “I am Spartacus!”  
  
Melpomene set her own mask to her face, taking on Rowan’s appearance as well. “If they get close enough, they’ll be able to tell it’s not her, but we should be able to trick them for a while, at least.”  
  
Jack eyed Melpomene critically now. Rowan Sawyer, down to the smallest details, though dressed in Melpomene’s black and red ensemble and speaking in her hoarse voice.  
  
It was unsetting and yet somehow…  _familiar?_  
  
Catching Jack’s eye, Melpomene returned her mask to her face and returned to her previous appearance.  
  
“That could actually work,” Bunny said thoughtfully.  
  
“North, if you’re gonna be making weapons, think you could make me some bullets?” Clio asked.  
  
“Of course,” Norths aid with a short nod.  
  
“Is that all?” Urania asked Pitch.  
  
“Well, there is the obvious way to buy you all more time with them,” Pitch said with a shrug.  
  
“And that is?” Tooth asked.  
  
“You all would  _never_  go for it,” Pitch laughed.  
  
“The deal was that you would tell us  _everything_ ,” Calliope said.  
  
“Calliope, dear, this is something you  _already know.”_  
  
“Just spit it out already,” Jack said.  
  
“The best way to assure that the Shadow People won't take the Mortal Muse's powers is to kill her some other way first,” Pitch said simply. Jack’s face immediately fell and he felt as though his heart had just crashed down into his stomach.  
  
“We are  _not_  doing that,” Bunny said immediately. Jack was glad that Bunny had said something, because at the moment he felt unable to form proper words.  
  
The idea was just awful in every imaginable way. He’d spent so much time worrying about the Shadow People killing her, it had never crossed his mind that something else could.  _She’s mortal_ , he was reminded again, ever so harshly.  
  
“Well, I mean, he’s got a point,” Erato said.  
  
 _“Erato,”_  Polyhymnia said, glancing at the other Muse, shocked.  
  
“I'm not saying let's go kill her, I absolutely think that's an awful idea, but he's right! If she were to die by something other than the Shadow People, there is no Mortal Muse for at least a full year, and therefore no target. It gives us a broader time frame to get rid of them,” Erato said.  
  
 _“I_  don’t want her dead, for the record,” Pitch said.  
  
“Oh  _really?_ ” North said skeptically.  
  
“As long as Rowan’s a target, he’s not,” Melpomene said simply. “But don’t you all act as though you’re  _above_  the notion.”  
  
“You’re one to talk,” Bunny said.  
  
“At least I acknowledge that I'm not an angel. Some here are still guilty of claiming the title of  _saint.”_  
  
“What is  _that_  supposed to mean?” North said at once.  
  
“You stand there acting so righteous, like the thought of killing someone turns your stomach, like you were never a  _bandit_  with a talent for this sort of thing!” Melpomene said.  
  
“Even in my youth I would never spill the blood of an innocent child!”  
  
“You don’t get it, she’s not a  _child!_ And I doubt she’s all that innocent.”  
  
“What kind of innocent are we talking about here? Because yeah, I don’t think she’s a virgin,” Erato said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Erato  _does_  have a talent for guessing that correctly,” Euterpe said.  
  
“Yep, like in this room? There’s exactly-”  
  
“This is  _so_  not what we’re here to discuss,” Calliope said, rubbing her temples as though she were getting a headache.  
  
“Oh, like we all don’t know about each others sex lives anyway. Or lack thereof.”  
  
“It does not matter, as it is, Rowan is under our  _protection_ , and regardless of what  _some_  may think of our morals, we will not entertain the thought of  _killing_  her,” North said.  
  
“I’ve been spending every night with her in order to keep her  _alive,_  we are not going to kill her,” Jack said, finally finding his voice but now unable to keep his mind away from Erato’s comments.  _Was_  Rowan a virgin? Did it matter? He couldn’t help the developing curiosity.  
  
“Did I miss something? Because I don’t think anyone actually said we were going to kill her,” Thalia said.  
  
“No one did. Mel just had to start drama, you know, the usual,” Clio said with a slight yawn. “And Erato didn’t help.”  
  
“Is there  _anything else_ , Pitch?” Calliope said, trying desperately to get everyone back on topic.  
  
“I don’t believe so, no,” said Pitch.  
  
“Great. Then I suppose this meeting is through?” Tooth said.  
  
“Yes,” said North.  
  
“Let’s stop by  _my_  workshop and then get to those stars,” Clio said. Bunny nodded and then tapped the floor, opening a tunnel for himself, Clio and Urania to travel through.  
  
“You all be careful out there,” Calliope said.  
  
“We should be fine,” Urania assured her before bidding the others farewell and disappearing within Bunny’s tunnel. Clio quickly followed and then Bunny finally jumped through, the tunnel closing behind him.  
  
Sandy approached Jack, “speaking” to him quickly with images above his head. Jack kneeled down to get a better look and nodded slowly, only somewhat certain he’d understood what the other Guardian was attempting to say.  
  
“So you’ll send a barrier of dream sand to Rowan’s house tonight as another obstacle for the Shadow People,” Jack said. Sandy nodded. “Thanks, Sandy. For everything, you’ve really helped a lot.”  
  
Jack quickly glanced at the others: Calliope now speaking to Tooth and the Muses that had not yet departed and North directing some Yetis. Pitch lurked near Melpomene, eyes fixed on the globe with a scowl on his face. Jack added in hushed tones, “I’m just sorry you’re in trouble with Calliope now.”  
  
Sandy rolled his eyes slightly and a few more images appeared above his head. They implied that Sandy meant to say that he and Calliope had been together for so long, this was certainly not their first  _or_  greatest disagreement.  
  
“Well, you know how to deal with her better than I do,” Jack smiled slightly. Sandy nodded. Jack returned to his feet and Sandy approached the Muses that were still speaking to him and began crafting dream creatures for those that had no other means of travel.  
  
“I have a bad feeling about this, Jack,” North said, appearing beside the boy now that he was through speaking with the Yetis. Jack glanced up at the man who was eying Pitch critically. “In my belly.”


	27. Misery Loves Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter dabbles in some mature themes, and also something that I've been teasing you guys with for a while. The back story that's going to be revealed in this chapter is something I'm a little nervous about. I just know that it's something that will either work, or it won't. Something you guys will be okay with or find to be completely OOC. Here's hoping it works out!
> 
> Also hoping I caught all my typos, it is late and I am updating this stuff before I get ready for bed so I can go to work in a few hours.

__She supposed that Jack having some deeply buried sadness wasn’t exactly far-fetched, he’d spoken in brief terms of all the time he’d spent by himself, she remembered him implying that he hadn’t really felt any kinship with the Guardians at first._ _

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Misery Loves Company**

* * *

  
  
  
The next morning, the Sandman’s dream sand had finally faded away from the view of each window of the house. Rowan appreciated the Sandman’s presence, she really did, but something about the encircling dream sand made her home feel like a prison in the nighttime more than ever. She knew the dream sand was to keep the Shadow People out, but she couldn’t help the feeling that it was doing a far better job keeping her  _in._  
  
It had never felt that way with just Jack around. He had been like a weird bodyguard or a roommate or something. Now it really felt like she was under some kind of mythical high security and it made her very uncomfortable.  
  
“You doing okay?” Jack asked. He hadn’t left for the day yet, instead finding himself perched upon the counter with a mug of coffee (that had quickly become iced coffee the moment he touched it) in hand and watching Rowan curiously.  
  
“Yeah, why?” Rowan asked, turning to face him as she prepared to pour her own cup of coffee.   
  
“You just seem-” Jack started, cut off as Rowan swore, having poured the scalding coffee onto her hand rather than into the mug. She quickly set the coffee pot down, still swearing and reaching for the cold water faucet of the sink. “-distracted.”  
  
Setting his mug down, Jack quickly slid off the counter and took Rowan’s hand in his, ice and frost quickly covering her flesh.   
  
“I’m so stupid,” Rowan mumbled, finally through with the creative combination of obscenities that had escaped her mouth as soon as she had burned herself.  
  
 _“Distracted,”_  Jack corrected, still clutching her hand in his.  
  
“I poured coffee on my  _hand_ ,” Rowan sighed, the sink still running behind her. “Good thing I’m not left-handed or anything- oh _wait,_   _I am.”_  
  
“Don't worry about it, if there's anything I can fix, it's a burn,” Jack said with a small smile. Rowan hesitated before smiling in return, glancing down at their hands, still intertwined despite the fact that her hand was no longer burning. They both seemed to realize this at once, as color rushed to each of their cheeks and Jack released her hand, smiling nervously.  
  
“Um, thank you,” Rowan said, turning the sink off and grabbing a rag to clean the coffee she’d spilled.  
  
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “So did your parents leave already?”  
  
“Dad’s working from his office upstairs today, which means he’s likely just playing solitaire or something right now. Mom left like an hour ago,” she replied.  
  
"Did  _you_  have plans for the day?" Jack said.  
  
"Not really. I mean, the only reason I got dressed and put makeup on is so that I'd feel slightly more like a person, maybe I'll go pay someone else to pour coffee for me or something," she said with a shrug. Jack seemed awfully interested in what the Sawyers were up to on this fine Tuesday.  
  
"Will your dad notice if you're gone for a while?" Jack asked.  
  
"Not if I tell him I left. Why?"  
  
"Let's do something today."  
  
"Like what? I thought you had blizzards and other inconveniences to make," Rowan said.  
  
"You should come with me," he said. Rowan eyed him curiously, smiling. Jack had never invited her to tag along while he did his work before. There was something that made her smile about the fact that he wanted to spend time with her during the day. It spoke volumes to her, that he wanted to be around her, and not just at night when he  _had_  to.  
  
She tried desperately not to be too happy about this fact. She couldn't let Jack Frost give her butterflies, not considering everything working against them, everything that told her liking him was a bad idea.  
  
But he was her friend, wasn't he? Regardless of any hormone-induced thoughts about his chest or daydreams about his laugh, at the end of the day they were friends, and that was a fact that had managed  _not_  to confuse her. There wasn't anything wrong with spending a day with her friend.  
  
"Hey Dad?" Rowan called.  
  
"Yeah?" came Bill's voice from the second floor.  
  
"I'm going to walk down to that coffee shop they opened and people watch with my sketchbook, I'll be back in a few hours," she shouted.  
  
"Okay, Angel Face, take your phone, don't talk to strangers," Bill called back, earning a roll of the eye from Rowan and a slight laugh from Jack.  
  
"Okay, Dad," she said before turning back to face Jack once more.  
  
"How old are you again and he's telling you not to talk to strangers?" Jack smiled.  
  
"Imagine how he'd be if he knew I was about to spend the day with an older man," Rowan whispered scandalously. It occurred to her that unless her parents decided to start believing in him, Jack would never get to formally meet them. Her friends would never properly meet him either. It bothered her, beyond the fact that it made things awkward when around Jack in mixed company.  
  
She wanted to be able to talk about him more freely. To tell Shirley or even her mother that she'd met this boy, and look at how good-looking he is! To have his sense of humor speak for itself, to  _share_  her friend with the people close to her.  
  
It stung when she realized that Jack could never totally be part of her life. Not while she had to lie and come up with silly stories to explain him away, not when he didn't exist to so many.   
  
She wanted to stop lying. She wanted to have an awkward dinner in which he met her parents and her father asked him strange and intrusive questions. She wanted Shirley to make inappropriate comments around him and Adam to attempt to get him to join his D&D group.  
  
Rowan didn't like the double life that magic was building for her. It was all too complicated.  
  
"And that said older man's been sleeping in your bed," Jack added to her comment with a small laugh. "Maybe it's a good thing I'm invisible."  
  
"Maybe," she said, forcing a smile before heading to the door where she'd left her boots so that she could pull them on. "Where are we going?"  
  
"Figured we'd start off harassing Burgess if anything," Jack said with a shrug. "Just gotta make sure your aunt doesn't see you or that'll be interesting to explain."  
  
"Well, Aunt Lorelei, I was sort of flown over here by a winter spirit that only I, and some children, seem to be able to see," Rowan said, the level of ridiculous in that statement not lost on her in the least.  
  
"Totally believable, right?" he said.  
  
"About as believable as Santa Claus," she said, fastening the buttons on her coat. "Speaking of flying, though, none of that stupid twirling around in mid-air."  
  
"I make no promises," Jack smirked.  
  
“You  _want_  me to have an anxiety attack, don’t you?”  
  
“I  _want_  you to have fun. Let’s go, come on,” he said, clearly growing impatient as she pulled on her gloves and rolled her eyes at him.  
  
“Not all of us can just run out into the cold barefoot,” she said in a sing-song voice, grabbing for her keys. Once on the front porch, Jack quickly glanced around the surrounding area for prying eyes.  
  
“You don’t have any nosy neighbors, do you?” he asked.  
  
“Of course we do, we’re one of them, my dad has binoculars in his office,” Rowan said, tucking her keys into her pocket.  
  
“Oh, good, so how are we going to get out of here?”  
  
“I figure we should just go for it and hope for the best, I mean, what are they going to do? Call my mother and tell her, ‘Dot, your daughter just floated away from your house!’?” Rowan said.  
  
“True enough. If anything maybe I’ll get another believer out of it. Come on,” he said, turning so that she could reach around his shoulders. Rowan slid her arms around him securely, heart pounding and chills rushing through her being the moment they made contact. It wasn’t unlike the sensation the first time he’d taken her flying, but this time she was nervous for entirely different reasons.  
  
She insisted to herself that embracing him for dear life while they flew about was no big deal. No matter how much she liked being so close to him, to breathe in his Christmas tree smell.  
  
“Ready?”  
  
“Yeah,” she breathed, the air fogging before her, brushing up against the back of his neck.  
  
Jack kicked off the ground, Rowan’s grip tightening as they left the ground behind and rocketed toward the skies. He simply laughed as her nails dug into his shoulders yet again.  
  
Last time it had been dark, now she could very clearly see just how far from the ground they were. She was beginning to wonder why she wasn’t as terrified as she should be. Perhaps she was in shock, maybe she just didn’t fully understand the completely ridiculous (and not to mention, dangerous) nature of this situation.  
  
Or maybe the fact that the only thing between her and falling was a skinny winter spirit didn’t terrify her at all. It was completely ridiculous, how much she’d come to trust him in the past week. There was something comforting about him being around, though. Like, despite the insanity of everything happening, things would be okay.  
  
Things would be okay, because Jack was there.  
  
It was all so  _stupid._  Rowan quickly reminded herself that she hadn’t even known him for a month yet. They met when he broke into her apartment, and not even for the first time! He was a centuries-old brat!  
  
As she rested her head against him with a small smile, she realized logic was failing her. Hard.  
  
She couldn’t help laughing with him as storms began to trail behind them with a flick of his wrist. It was a fantastic sight to see. Skies turned from blue to grey. Towns became distorted behind blurs of white.   
  
This continued for a while, Rowan wasn’t sure how long, before Jack landed in a wooded area. There was a small, condemned cabin nearby with various signs advising those around to stay away.  
  
“Planning more breaking and entering?” Rowan asked, one arm still around his shoulders despite the fact that they had landed.  
  
“This is actually where  _I_  live. Sometimes,” Jack said.  
  
“You mean you don’t just wander around aimlessly?” Rowan asked, cocking a brow. She was reminded, yet again, that she hadn’t known Jack for very long and was still learning things about him  
  
“Well, I used to, but the Guardians were all, ‘Jack, you must have home base! Is very important!’” said Jack, putting on his best Russian accent in order to imitate North.  
  
“That was pretty good, have you been practicing?”  
  
“A little,” he smirked. “But yeah, it’s nothing too impressive, but it got them to shut up about it for now.”  
  
“Are we gonna go in? The door looks like it might be frozen,” Rowan said, gesturing to the small cabin as she finally released the boy from her grasp.  
  
"I  _guess_  I won't make you climb through the window," Jack said, approaching the door of the cabin, snow collecting at the base and edges. The door didn't budge at his first attempt to open it, frozen shut as Rowan had suspected. With a few quick jabs with his shoulder, the door finally swung open and he lead the way inside.  
  
Rowan stepped inside the cramped cabin, scanning the room before quickly becoming distracted by the shelves on the nearby wall. "Like I said," said Jack as he closed the door again, "It's not much... I use it for storage, mostly."  
  
"It's... quaint?" Rowan smirked, glancing back at Jack briefly before returning her attention to the matryoshka doll made in his image on the shelf, reaching forward to take it in her hands and examine it. It was hand painted and crafted with exceptional skill.  
  
"North gave me that," Jack said, standing beside her with eyes fixed on the doll. "He had one that looked like him when he was explaining 'centers' to me."  
  
"Huh," Rowan said. The outermost doll seemed to have a mischievous glint in its painted eyes, as though it was up to no good. She smiled; it seemed an appropriate representation of the first impression one got from the spirit. North was a great artist, she could tell, with the way he was able to bring across so much character with these meticulous brush strokes.   
  
Opening the doll, she found that the next one was bracing itself, as though prepared to fight. Determined, a fighter? Seemed about right. Even when it came to the Shadow People, even though Jack had his doubts, he’d never backed away from his post, which she appreciated. Setting aside the shells of these dolls, she examined the next one, mouth open and brows raised as though delivering some sarcastic retort. Again, appropriate, and a side of Jack she knew very well. It seemed that half of their conversations consisted of the pair sassing each other.  
  
The next doll was grinning, helping a child build a snowman, which prompted thoughts of fraternity. Jack had once remarked to her that Jamie reminded him something of his sister, and Rowan could remember the way he spoke about her. The way he interacted with Jamie, the way he interacted with  _any_  child, he always seemed like the big brother that would never be too cool or too busy for a game of tag. Setting aside this doll, Rowan paused at the next one.  
  
This one looked hopeless, sad, drawing a frown from Rowan. It was hard imagining Jack as depressed as this painted representation of him. Each of the previous depictions had been spot-on and exactly the Jack Frost she knew. This one was unsettling. She supposed that Jack having some deeply buried sadness wasn’t exactly far-fetched, he’d spoken in brief terms of all the time he’d spent by himself, she remembered him implying that he hadn’t really felt any kinship with the Guardians at first. All the same, she’d never considered him lost or alone. He gave off such confidence that whenever it faltered, she became nervous.   
  
Jack gently reached forward after a moment of her staring at the doll with a puzzled, somewhat worried expression fixed on her face. He opened that doll to reveal the innermost one.   
  
This one was incredibly happy. It eased her mind considerably, knowing that the sadness didn’t penetrate him to his core.  
  
"Fun," he said. "My center."  
  
"It's cute," Rowan said, smiling up at him. As she began re-assembling the doll, she asked. "Do the Muses have anything like this?"  
  
"Their 'centers' are basically what they're best at inspiring, what  _they_  put into the world. So Calliope's would be epic poetry, Clio's is history, et cetera," Jack said. "Wondering what yours would be?"  
  
"A bit," said Rowan, gently setting the doll back on the shelf and focusing on the drawings pinned nearby. Jack watched her critically.  
  
"Children's stories, I'd think," Jack said thoughtfully after a moment of silence. "Or illustration in general. There's not a Muse for that, it's what you're good at. But I guess Calliope is usually the best at figuring those out."  
  
“I don’t think she likes me much,” Rowan mumbled.  
  
“Yeah, well, join the club,” Jack said.  
  
“What are the other ones like? I’ve done a little research online since I found all this out,” she said, eyes still fixed on the drawings. “These ones are Jamie’s, aren’t they? He’s already developing a style.”  
  
“Yeah, I’ve got a ton from him,” Jack smiled. “As far as the Muses go… well, Polyhymnia is pretty nice, but she’s stubborn, and Thalia is easy enough to get along with but it’s rare for her to take anything seriously. Urania is the only one that doesn’t seem to hold the weather against me, you met her.”  
  
“She was a bit more gentle, that’s for sure,” Rowan said.  
  
“Erato kind of makes me nervous, I’m never sure what exactly to think of her, or what exactly she thinks of me,” Jack said. Rowan’s mind raced with the things she’d read as he listed the others off. “Clio, I haven’t had much interaction with, but I know she likes to build things and she and Urania are sort of Calliope’s right-hand Muses. Euterpe’s really quiet when she’s not singing, so I don’t know much about her except that she doesn’t like me much either. And Terpsichore has the potential to be really aggressive, but I think she saves it for her dance most of the time.”  
  
“That’s eight,” Rowan said once he finished speaking. She plopped herself down on the mattress on the floor, looking up at him. “You skipped Melpomene.”  
  
Jack’s eyes darted away from Rowan’s. “Right. We don’t get along.”  
  
“What happened with you two?” Rowan asked. She couldn’t make a guess based off her research. There were so many versions of everything and of course there were no tales of any of the Muses and a winter spirit.  
  
“Why did something have to happen?” Jack said vaguely, sitting beside her.  
  
“You said before that you guys had bad history. And considering how you react every time she’s brought up, I’m inclined to think it’s bad  _romantic_  history,” Rowan said, watching him critically. He stared at the wall across from them rather than at her, fiddling with his staff.  
  
“It was just… a bad time for everyone involved,” Jack said vaguely, still not looking straight at Rowan, though she was watching him carefully, her arms wrapped around her knees.  
  
“But  _was it_  a romantic thing? I mean, I know you’ve spent a lot of time by yourself. I’m not going to lie, I’ve been wondering if you ever even  _had_  a love life in the past few centuries,” Rowan said.  
  
“Are you asking if I’m a virgin, Miss Sawyer?” Jack said, turning to face her at last and cocking a brow.  
  
“Considering the amount of time you spent alone and invisible, I sort of assumed. But every time Melpomene comes up, I end up second-guessing. I mean, it’s none of my business, obviously,” Rowan said, taking her turn to glance at the wall rather than the boy.  
  
“Are  _you?”_  he asked, taking her by surprise. She glanced back at Jack, eyes wide as her mind raced back to high school (a terrible place for a mind to be, indeed).  
  
“I’ll answer if you answer,” she said, finally.  
  
They eyed each other awkwardly for a moment, Jack seemed to be considering his answer very carefully.  
  
“No, I’m not,” he said at last. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a long time. But I’m not.”  
  
“Neither am I,” Rowan admitted.  
  
“We’re not going to leave it at that, are we?” Jack said, leaning back against his mattress and fixing his eyes on the ceiling.  
  
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” Rowan bargained. They fell into silence for a while, which was unsurprising considering the personal and downright awkward nature of the conversation.  
  
“For the record,” Jack said finally, “The Muses probably have their own version of this going around their little group because they’re all a bunch of gossips. Tooth knows but I don’t know what or how much because she got her information from them. Bunny and North, though? They  _don’t know this_  so…”  
  
“What am I gonna do, Jack, write Santa Claus a letter about you losing your virginity? Aren’t you already on the naughty list?” Rowan teased.  
  
“I just don’t know how they’ll react,” Jack said. “I mean, I’m hoping  _you_  won’t think less of me for telling you. I can’t believe I _am_  going to tell you.”  
  
Rowan leaned on her side beside Jack. It seemed as though this would be a long story and she figured she should attempt to make herself comfortable. “You must  _really_  want to know mine,” she teased. He smirked.  
  
“Maybe I’m tired of keeping secrets and dodging questions,” he said. She smiled softly, having thought the same thing earlier, for different reasons.  
  
“Go on, then,” Rowan said.  
  
Jack sighed. “When I was Jack Overland, I had very little interest in girls. Girls my age weren’t any fun. They were all worrying about getting married, and the concept scared the hell out of me. Every time my mother brought it up, because at the ripe old age of eighteen, I should be getting ready to tie the knot sometime soon, obviously, I’d do anything possible to change the subject. It’s probably a good thing that she never actually got anything set up because really? Imagine me as a husband for a second here.”  
  
“Well, I mean, you’d probably look nice in a suit,” Rowan said, trying to hide her smile as the image of Jack in a tuxedo, nervously fidgeting in a church, flashed in her mind.  
  
“At that point, I’d kissed a few girls but as far as I was concerned I was still a child, and children aren’t supposed to get married and support families. Marriage is  _still_  not something I can really get behind, not after three hundred years of watching all these relationships… But I didn’t remember any of what I had experienced in my living life, I didn’t get those memories back until a few months ago. So, when I met Melpomene, it was after fifty years by myself, and as far as I knew I had no experience with anything,” said Jack.  
  
“There wasn’t anyone around in that fifty years at all?”  
  
“The only contact I’d had with anyone at that point was the occasional snide comment about the weather from passing immortal beings. They never lingered long enough to learn more than their names, and they were few and far between. A lot of them didn’t notice me either, or purposely ignored me… no human could see me, and no immortal being wanted anything to do with me,” Jack said, no trace of bitterness in his voice. It seemed that it was something that he had just come to accept and Rowan frowned. No wonder it took him a while to warm up to the Guardians.  
  
“So where does Melpomene come in?” Rowan asked.  
  
“One day, I found a bridge, and on this bridge was a girl. She was beautiful, like the storybook descriptions of Snow White. That’s the first thing I thought of her, that she looked  _just like_  how I had imagined Snow White when I listened in on mothers telling their children the stories. You know, lips red as blood, hair black as ebony, skin white as snow.  
  
“I stayed to watch her, it’s not like I had anything better to do, and when she finally looked up from the water, she stopped to look in my direction. My breath got caught in my throat, I was so scared that my mind was playing tricks on me and she hadn’t actually seen me. Then she left the bridge and began walking toward me, and I called out asking if she could see me. She said, ‘Yes, of course I can. Jack Frost, isn’t it?’ I asked how she knew who I was and she said she’d heard of me. She must have seen that I was overwhelmed because she told me not to get too excited, that she was immortal too.  
  
“It was disappointing, definitely. For a second there I thought that a mortal finally believed in me. But still, she was the first immortal that didn’t brush me off for something else, and I asked who she was. She told me that her name was Melpomene and that she was a Muse. She told me that she understood my disappointment, that the mortals couldn’t see her either. I only recently found out that the Muses choose whether or not to reveal themselves to mortals or remain invisible to them. But at the time, I thought I’d found a kindred spirit.”  
  
“So, she lied to you,” Rowan said.  
  
“She’s really, really good at that,” Jack mumbled. “I still wonder if this was all something she had planned before we met or something she just decided to do at that moment for the fun of it. She asked if I could really control the ice and snow and if I could show her. I was thrilled that someone actually wanted to see my powers at work instead of actively hating me for them. I’d never gotten to really share them with anyone before that point, you know? So, I showed off, we became friends, I was actually happy for a while.”  
  
“Then what happened?” asked Rowan.  
  
“We got closer. She suggested we start traveling together instead of just meeting up occasionally. I was starving for companionship and agreed. I always thought she was beautiful, and I got pretty attached to her. She was literally my only friend in the world, and was sure to make sure I knew that. It was subtle at first, just remarking that it was nice having someone around that understood the loneliness of immortality. She would purposely take me around towns where people would walk right through me, where kids would play in the snow and just… not see me. Every time I’d get angry, and every time she’d be there to console me.   
  
“Muses can either evoke the ideas that are already buried in your mind or plant their own into your mind. Melpomene did both. She’d kiss me and leave me thinking about all the times I’d tried and failed to get anyone to see me. Touch me and leave me with thoughts of how she was the only one who  _got_  me and would ever get me.”  
  
Jack paused for a short while, hesitating before glancing backing Rowan’s direction and continuing. “We watched a lot of people die,” he said weakly. “Hypothermia is a terrible way to go, I wanted to help but I won’t pretend it wasn’t easy for her to talk me out of it. They didn’t believe in me, no one ever helped me, why should I care about the mortals? What had they ever done for me? She fed on their tragedies, just as she fed on mine. You can’t just watch people die with such frequency unless you’re like Melpomene and you thrive off of suffering. I was in this constant state of hatred and sorrow, to the point where I felt physically ill at times. I couldn’t sleep; I had nightmares about corpses. I hated myself, I was sure that my only purpose in the world was to bring death. Maybe that was why everyone hated me. But I had Melpomene. I had someone I thought I was in love with. That meant things were going all right for me, right?”  
  
“It isn’t your fault they died,” Rowan said, frowning and thinking of that sad nesting doll. “And there wasn’t anything you could have done anyway.”  
  
“I know. It took me a good century and a half to come to terms with that,” Jack said. He hesitated again before continuing. “The more intimate the action, the more a Muse can inspire someone. So, yeah, we started sleeping together. It was all well and good during the act, but as soon as it was over I was as miserable as ever, and she was thriving, reminding me that things would be all right, she was there.”  
  
“How long did that go for?” asked Rowan.  
  
“A few years,” Jack groaned, rubbing his face in what seemed to be a combination of frustration and shame. “Until I started to think that maybe I was better off alone. I was miserable alone but never to the extent I was with her. But she’d smile at me, and she’d tell me, ‘Oh Jack, I know how you’ve suffered,’ ‘Oh, Jack, if only other people saw you the way I do,’ ‘Jack, when we’re together, we can conquer anything.’ All I wanted was someone to acknowledge me, someone who gave a shit about me, and I finally had it. I think that’s why it took me so long to figure out how toxic she was for me. I almost feel bad for Pitch now, knowing that she’s leeching off him.”  
  
“Did you know that she was manipulating you or did you just think that being around her was bad for you?” Rowan asked. She was trying desperately not to form her opinion on this woman based only on Jack’s biased account, but it was difficult. Jack was her friend, she cared about him so much. She’d never met Melpomene. At this rate, though, she was hoping that she never would. She didn’t know what she would do.  
  
Melpomene had hurt her friend, and it was not something that Rowan thought she could take sitting down.  
  
“I didn’t know she was using her powers on me, not until I met Urania one day when Melpomene had wandered off, probably to avoid her. She introduced herself as the Muse of Astronomy and I was confused. I didn’t realize that the Muses had categories, I thought they were just general Muses. I asked her what Melpomene was the Muse of and Urania was really, really confused that I didn’t know. She told me that Melpomene was the Muse of Tragedy.  _Then_  it all made sense. That was why I was such a mess when I was around her. That was why I hadn’t had a single positive thought while I was around her. She saw me as an opportunity and she took it,” Jack said.  
  
“That… must have been hard to take,” Rowan said.  
  
“Yeah, I mean… I thought I loved her, and I thought she loved me, but knowing that she was purposely making me miserable gave me the extra push to tell her that I never wanted to see her again. Because at that point I  _knew_  that I was better off alone. She tried talking me out of it, but when I insisted, she didn’t seem very upset at all. She just went on her way, and I didn’t see her again until a few weeks ago. I can only imagine what she told the other Muses about us, I still don’t know what all Tooth knows.”  
  
“Why are you so worried about what version of events they have?” Rowan asked.  
  
“What the hell kind of Guardian watches people die as a hobby? Has an intimate relationship with what is basically the physical embodiment of tragedy?” Jack said.  
  
“You weren’t a Guardian yet,” Rowan said. “And didn’t you say before that North used to be a bandit? They’ve all got pasts, Jack. They’ve accepted you as a Guardian, they can’t take it back because of an ex-girlfriend.”  
  
“I don’t even know if that’s an appropriate term for her, ‘ex-unhealthy-codependent-companion’ might work better,” Jack sighed. “But it’s a bit of a mouthful.”  
  
Rowan smiled, pleased that Jack still found ways to joke after relaying such guarded stories from his past. He obviously was uncomfortable, showing this degree of vulnerability, but she was touched that he had shared it with her.  
  
“I don’t know, I guess I worry that I’ve got what I want again. I have a family, but what happens if it doesn’t work out like last time?” Jack mumbled, as though hoping somehow Rowan wouldn’t hear.  
  
“I don’t know them very well, but from what you tell me about the other Guardians I feel like they’re in it for the long haul,” Rowan said. “Don’t worry so much, Jack. Not everyone’s going to be a tragedy.”  
  
“Holy shit, did  _you_  just tell me not to worry so much?” Jack laughed.  
  
“If this doesn’t prove that you’re worrying too much then nothing will,” Rowan smiled.  
  
“So you don’t think any less of me for all of that?” he asked.  
  
“No! I want to punch out Melpomene, if anything,” she replied.  
  
Jack waved her comment away. “I think can handle her, but I appreciate the gesture. Plus that wouldn’t help you out with the other Muses at all.”  
  
“They’re pretty loyal to each other, aren’t they?” Rowan asked.  
  
“They consider each other sisters. I know Melpomene rubs them all the wrong way every now and again but they’re still a tight knit group,” he said. “Anyway, I held up  _my_  end of the bargain, it’s your turn.”  
  
Rowan’s cheeks turned red, remembering that she had offered up her story in exchange for his. “Oh, right,” she said, leaning back so that she was no longer on her side. “My story isn’t anywhere near as dramatic.”  
  
“Good,” Jack smiled. “Not in the mood for another one of those.”  
  
“It was my junior year of high school,” she started, absentmindedly beginning to braid some strands of hair. “I was  _convinced_ everything was going to be different for me that year. I got my braces off, I got rid of my tacky pink hair. I mean, obviously boys were going to take notice, right? No. It seemed like the only reason anyone noticed me before was because of my hair and without it, no one saw me. I kind of buried myself into my artwork because what else was there to do? In one of my art classes there was this boy, Luke. He was a senior, he played guitar. Which, in case you don’t know, playing guitar automatically makes you about eighty percent more attractive.”  
  
“Does it matter if you are actually good at it?” Jack said.  
  
“No, but it helps,” Rowan smiled. “He told me he liked my drawings and I was just… so excited that this cute boy who could play guitar was talking to me. He was in a band, a band that played shitty local shows, but as far as I was concerned, he was on his way to rock stardom. He was so  _nice_  to me and the fact that he acknowledged me and took an interest in my artwork had me fawning over him at any given opportunity. It was actually kind of embarrassing, I was gushing about him constantly, even though I could tell my friends were sick of hearing about it. I was practically doing his English assignments for him; we weren’t even dating yet. I was like a sad little fangirl, I was beside myself when he finally asked me out.”  
  
“I really can’t imagine you falling all over someone like that,” Jack said.  
  
“I was sixteen,” Rowan sighed. “I was a moron. He was so  _nice_ , and he wrote songs for me. I went to all of his shows, even if it meant I had to sneak out after my parents went to sleep because they didn’t want me going to these sketchy venues, especially not on a school night. They called the cops once because they thought I was missing. I got in so much trouble when I tried sneaking back in the house at two in the morning that night.”  
  
“And yet  _you’re_  on the Nice list,” Jack teased.  
  
“Hey, I don’t make the lists,” Rowan smiled. “He told me he loved me, I didn’t even think it over before I told it to him back. Looking back, I think I loved the attention and the idea of being in love, not him. One night his mom was working late and he invited me over. My parents never would have let me go if they knew there wasn’t going to be any supervision. They didn’t like him much, didn’t like me being alone with him. He played a song for me, told me how much I inspired him. I’d wanted to have sex with him for a while, so it really wasn’t hard for him to get me in bed that night. It was my first time so it was painful and awkward and just… you know, generally not as magical as you hope it’s gonna be. When we were done, he lit a cigarette and started scribbling in his lyric notebook like crazy with this red sharpie. I guess knowing I’m a Mortal Muse, that part makes sense now.”  
  
Now that she thought of it, Luke had always seemed to invite her over when he had writer’s block. They would get physical, then he’d bury himself in his notebooks while she tried to busy herself with her phone or the television.  
  
“What finally ended things between you guys?” Jack asked after a beat.  
  
“He was supposed to take me to the prom. I bought a dress, I knew just how I was going to do my hair. We were going to go to the dance for a little while and then go out and cause trouble with his band and their dates. I was looking forward to it so much when he called me a few days before and told me that his ex-girlfriend had started talking to him again. He said that he loved me, he really did, but she was his  _first love_  and it had devastated him when she’d dumped him the previous year. He said he never really stopped loving her or thinking about her. He told me that they’d gotten back together and that he was going to take her to the dance with the ticket he had purchased for me. Then he had the nerve to say that he hoped there weren’t any hard feelings and that we could still be friends.”  
  
“Ouch,” Jack said.  
  
“He dumped me over a phone call,” she sighed. “He tore up my heart and didn’t give a shit, I couldn’t even return the dress at that point. I was absolutely devastated. But I mean, I guess it’s for the best. He’s still trying to make that band happen and the only decent songs they have are the ones he wrote about me. His girlfriend, the same girlfriend he dumped me for, throws a fit if they ever try to perform them. He’s working at the grocery store last I checked, community college drop-out.”  
  
“So the moral of the story is that if you’re a musician dating the Mortal Muse, don’t dump her,” Jack joked. She smiled, glad that he was trying to lighten the mood.  
  
“I guess so,” she said. “Anyway, dwelling on exes is depressing, I don’t know how Taylor Swift does it all the time.”  
  
She pulled herself to her feet and offered Jack a hand as he got up as well. “It’s a lovely snowstorm out there, let’s go for a walk or something, talk about anything else,” she said.  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Jack smiled, heading for the door and holding it open for her. She mockingly gave him a curtsey for the gesture before exiting the cabin. After pulling the door securely closed behind him, Jack was quick to catch up with Rowan, a few paces ahead.  
  
“So,” she said. “You haven’t been laid in about two hundred and fifty years, huh?”  
  
“Oh my  _God_ , I thought we weren’t talking about this anymore,” Jack sighed, rolling his eyes as she laughed. “And stop giggling, you were dumped over a phone call.”


	28. Yes and No

_Honestly, was there any part of liking someone that wasn’t completely ridiculous?_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Yes and No**

* * *

  
  
Calliope did her best to ignore the shining dream sand as it twirled beside her. She was currently in her bird form, on her way to Tooth Palace where she intended to speak with Toothiana about arrangements for the new moon. The sand was taking the shapes of other birds, flying around her in circles and nudging her slightly.  
  
"Stop it, Sandy," she said, finally looking in his direction if only to glare at him. As Sandy glided on his dream cloud, a few images appeared in quick succession above his head as though to say  _Oh, are you speaking to me now?_  
  
Calliope scowled, looking ahead once more as she continued flapping her wings through the snow. Her weak moonbeam was having difficulty keeping up, but Sandy was not. He quickly caught up with her, the dream cloud expanding as though to offer her a place to land.  
  
She simply kept flying, cursing as she had to dodge the snow. Jack Frost's powers were so  _annoying_ , she had to wonder if he worked at it or if it was a natural talent. Finally, a strong gust of wind sent her crashing into Sandy's chest where he quickly cradled her to keep her from falling. Gently, he set her atop his dream cloud, where she reluctantly transformed back into her usual form, sitting atop the cloud and clearly irritated. Sandy rose higher into the air, high above the clouds and the snow with Calliope still perched atop the dream cloud with him silently.  
  
Once he caught her eye, the images began to flash above his head again.  
  
Calliope pursed her lips as she watched him, attempting for a moment to keep her mouth shut (she was  _supposed_  to be giving him the silent treatment, after all).  
  
But who was a Muse to remain silent for long? Words were what she dealt with, after all. When she finally spoke, though, it was anything but poetry.  
  
"How is this the best for everyone, Sanderson?  _How?_  Making a deal with the man that  _killed you?_  It's a whole new level of stupidity!"  
  
Sandy sighed, moving his hands as more images appeared above his head.  
  
"So because you're okay with it, I should be? I know you're the one he killed but you can't tell me not to be angry about it. Maybe you can put it behind you but I  _can't._  He took away the most precious thing I have, I can't overlook that."  
  
Sandy put a hand to her shoulder, smiling softly at her while few more images materialized.  
  
"I know you're here now, I know you're okay, but do you have any idea how  _scared_  I was when I got the news you were gone?" Calliope said, eyes filling with tears against her will. She was  _trying_  to be angry with him! But all she could do was feel the familiar pain in her chest that she'd felt when the news got to her about his apparent death.  
  
Tears were weakness. She was always so very careful to make sure she never showed weakness. Being weak was not an option, not when she was the leader of a group of exceptionally powerful beings.  
  
But it had never been that way with Sandy. She wasn't sure why she was so concerned about crying now, aside from letting her angry front falter. He'd already seen her cry a thousand times over.  
  
There was simply too much going on. The memories of learning of his death were still fresh; they still stung.  
  
"Sandy, I thought you were gone forever. I can't do this without you. When I became the first Muse, I had no idea what was going on, you were the first immortal to find me and you took my hand and helped me through it. Without you, I'm that lost little girl again, I'm alone and confused and without direction.  _I can't do this without you._ "  
  
Sandy took her hand in his, smiling softly at her as more shapes formed above his head, as though to say that she wouldn't ever have to.  
  
"It's just so much at once. There's a Mortal Muse I'm not sure about, Jack Frost has probably been telling her terrible things about us, which really is our own fault. Tsar Lunar is upset with Melpomene but won't say why, she's  _always_  getting into trouble, I worry about what she's doing with Pitch now. I'm trying to come up with the best way to keep my sisters safe when Apollo gave us all these wonderful powers that are  _useless_  against the Shadow People… I just… I feel like nothing's in my control anymore, like everything is working against us," Calliope babbled, frustrated tears slipping down her cheeks at last. "The last thing I need is to worry that the one thing that's been constant for me since I became a Muse will be taken away from me again."  
  
Sandy reached forward, brushing away her tears before pulling her into his arms. He had never quite been able to reach all the way around, but his embrace was always the most comforting for her. She wrapped her arms around his small frame, resting her head atop his.  
  
Being able to touch him, having that undeniable confirmation that he was alive and well, eased her mind like nothing else.  
  
Her anger at him had finally died down, replaced by her concern that had then faded out into this place of contentment, simply over the fact that he was all right.  
  
Maybe they could get through this yet.  
  
"You're my best friend," she whispered. "You always will be."

* * *

  
  
"So I guess every year on Christmas they all get together and exchange gifts, which means  _I_  am invited along this time but I have no idea what to do about the whole 'gift' thing," Jack said.  
  
"Oh man, what do you get  _Santa Claus_  for Christmas?" Rowan said, brow furrowed.  
  
"My dilemma exactly. For  _all_  of them."  
  
"What do they like?"  
  
"Tooth likes, well, teeth."  
  
"Hmm. And you have like no budget for this, do you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"I don't know you can make them something...?"  
  
"I've got the resources to make snow and ice… unless I can borrow North's workshop for something but I don't know where to start."  
  
"Make someone a fancy ice sculpture or something, you're always making them for no particular reason, like the bird you made in my apartment," Rowan said.  
  
"You like those?"  
  
"I do, you're an artist, Jack Frost," she smiled. Jack smiled as well. He couldn't seem to help himself, everything at that moment seemed to be going right. He liked it when Rowan managed to smile, managed to forget everything that was currently going wrong. He particularly enjoyed it when  _he_  was somehow responsible for the smile that tugged at her lips and brightened her eyes.  
  
There was something calming, something wonderful about this: walking through the woods, the snow, talking about nothing very important. Especially after the conversation in the cabin, that things could go back to this place of tranquility. That he didn't have to tip-toe around Melpomene's name anymore or worry what Rowan might think if she found out what had happened.  
  
He felt entirely comfortable, despite the fact that he also felt like the biggest sap in the tri-state area. Being so content because  _she_  was content? Smiling simply because she did? Confessing one of his most guarded memories to her after the least amount of prodding necessary?  
  
He reminded himself, yet again, that they hadn't even known each other a month yet.  
  
"I never looked at it that way, but I guess I  _am_  rather talented," he said, smugness radiating from his very being.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you've had three centuries to work on it," Rowan smirked, waving his comment away before letting her hand hang by her side. Jack couldn't help glancing down at said hand every few seconds, clad in fingerless gloves to show off chipping nail polish and long, slender fingers, tinted pink from the cold.  
  
Most importantly, considering how closely they were walking beside each other, her hand was mere  _inches_  away from his. It would take very little for him to simply reach over and slide his fingers between hers.  
  
"Does this void my abilities?" Jack asked, still glancing down at their hands every few moments. He was  _really_  debating over whether or not to hold this girl's hand. After centuries of rarely thinking twice about any decision, centuries of relying on himself and insisting to himself that he was  _completely fine_  on his own, he was nervous about taking Rowan's hand in his.  
  
Honestly, was there any part of liking someone that wasn't completely ridiculous?  
  
They'd been sharing a bed. She'd been clinging to his shoulders when he flew her over here. There'd been several instances when she'd woken from a nightmare and he pulled her into his arms, and they remained just like that for hours.  
  
But holding her hand made him nervous.  
  
There wasn't any dire situation or nightmare that prompted such contact. They were not half asleep. Perhaps that was what was scary, the fact that this moment was going so well, everything was safe and fine. There was no need for reassuring physical contact.  
  
There was nothing it could be shrugged away as. If he reached over and took her hand right now, it would be very clear that it was because he had feelings for her.  
  
"I would just hope that if anyone did anything for three-hundred years, they'd be somewhat good at it," Rowan said with a shrug. She seemed completely oblivious to his struggle.  
  
There was very little working in their favor. That is, if there was  _anything_  working in their favor at all. She was a Mortal Muse and for every reason he came up with in support of pursuing something with her, he had another three reasons against it.  
  
He kept trying to talk himself out of liking her, kept trying to remind himself that he hadn't known her very long at all, that he was terrible at and didn't have much experience with relationships. She was going to die at some point, in some way.  
  
It wasn't working, if anything it made her more intriguing.  
  
"So you think it's a practice makes perfect thing? No, no, Miss Sawyer, I am just  _naturally talented_  at these things," Jack said.  
  
Apparently holding a girl's hand was not one of these natural talents.  
  
Once it was out there, once she knew how he felt about her, there wasn't any taking that back. He found himself wishing he'd grabbed his wisdom tooth on the way out of the cabin, maybe he'd know with absolute certainty what he should do.  
  
He knew what he  _wanted_  to do. He wanted to take her hand, like it wasn't any big deal. He didn't want it to be a big deal, he wanted it to just be a thing they did, walking around in the snow with fingers intertwined.  
  
Sap, sap,  _sap._  
  
He wanted to be with her, he wanted to figure out the whole "relationship" thing with  _her_ , despite everything (and everyone) that told him not to.  
  
"Just woke up one day awesome, hm?" Rowan asked with a roll of the eye.  
  
North telling him to go for it, Bunny telling him it was a bad idea, the whole story about Yelena, it left him entirely conflicted about what he  _should_  do. But he still knew what he  _wanted_ to do.  
  
He remembered something North had told him, after telling him all about Yelena.  
  
 _Do not miss out on something magnificent for the sake of caution._  
  
Who was Jack Frost to be cautious? About something like holding someone's hand?  
  
"More like I was  _born_  one day, awesome," Jack said, hesitantly brushing his fingers against hers. She glanced down for only a moment before looking ahead again, her hand remaining where it was. It could have easily been shrugged off as an accident.  
  
He could still turn back, act like it had never happened.  
  
He  _should_  turn back, act like it had never happened.  
  
He didn't want to.  
  
Still hesitant, he reached for her hand and gently slid his fingers between hers. She tensed for a moment, turning to look at him in surprise, her cheeks turning red before she glanced away again.  
  
She didn't pull her hand away, but adjusted it slightly, a small smile returning to her face.  
  
"You're ridiculous," she sighed.  
  
"Birds of a feather," he replied, feeling color rush to his cheeks as well. He was still surprised his body could generate enough heat to do such a thing.  
  
"Are you implying that I'm ridiculous?"  
  
"I'm  _saying_  you're ridiculous, this is something we've long since established."  
  
"You're much more ridiculous than I am," Rowan said, stopping and turning to face him, hand still in his.  
  
"No way, your levels of ridiculous surpass mine," Jack said, his footsteps halting as well as he turned to fully face her.  
  
"You have been practicing ridiculous for three centuries."  
  
 _"You_  have a natural talent for it."  
  
Rowan laughed slightly, shaking her head, still smiling. This action, combined with the wind shifting slightly, was just enough for a strand of hair to fall directly into her face. Jack set his staff against the nearby tree and reached forward with his now-free hand to tuck the hair behind her ear. She shivered slightly at his touch, a small trail of frost twisting down from her ear to her neck before it melted away.  
  
His hand lingered near her cheek and he smiled sheepishly as she bit her lip. They'd fallen into a tense silence and Jack could feel his heart crashing against his chest with every beat.  
  
Why did she make him so  _nervous?_  
  
Her eyes were so big and brown. Her lashes were so long. How could everything be so tense and so comfortable at the same time? It didn't make any sense, nothing made any sense with this girl. Not a single thing.  
  
It didn't make sense that the woods seemed to melt away, like there was absolutely nothing but the two of them. It didn't make any sense that all he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his ears and her faint breathing as they stood there, staring into each other's eyes. How long had it been? He didn't know. Time didn't exist, nothing made sense.  
  
How could someone as  _sappy_  as this even exist? He wanted to roll his eyes at himself but was far too distracted by the realization that they were now much closer than they had been a moment ago. Rowan's breath came in fog, her lips parted but slightly.  
  
This wasn't the kiss on the cheek at the art show or in the middle of the night. If he thought there wasn't any turning back after taking her hand, there surely wasn't going to be any turning back after this.  
  
She closed her eyes and he followed suit, tilting his head slightly to the side. This was it. He had every intention of leaning forward just a bit more and kissing her.  
  
That was when the snowball hit the side of his head, the slush ricocheting from his skull and into Rowan's. They immediately took a step back, Jack pulling his hand away from her cheek and Rowan pulling her hand out of his grasp as they wiped snow from their faces.  
  
"What the  _hell?"_  Jack said, looking around the immediate area as he retrieved his staff. If anyone was going to throwing rogue snowballs at unsuspecting (non)couples, shouldn't it be him?  
  
"I hear giggling," Rowan said, looking around as well. Sure enough, the sound of children laughing, usually a welcome sound to the winter spirit, could be heard. "I didn't even realize we were next to the course."  
  
The twisting, icy paths that had managed not to melt away, were directly beside their small section of trail they had been standing on. They were mere yards away from the top of the hill. More muffled laughter.  
  
Jack scooped up some snow from the ground and threw it in the direction that the laughter was coming from. There was a moment of silence after the snowball made contact with  _something_  and then another snowball came their way. Rowan and Jack each stepped to the side to avoid this projectile. Three more snowballs quickly followed and Rowan crept through the trees and along the trail, which would spit her back out at the top of the hill. Jack, however, kicked off the ground and flew that way, finding that it would be far quicker.  
  
He was unsurprised to find Jamie and his friends hiding behind a hastily-made barrier of snow. Landing on a branch above them, Jack flashed the group the most unamused of expressions before whacking the branch with his staff. All the snow that had been settled serenely on the branch immediately fell atop the children, who attempted to shield their heads, laughing the whole way.  
  
Jack loved these kids, he really, truly did. They were among his first believers, Jamie being the first he'd had at all. But he had been  _so close_  to- well he was just about to-  
  
Oh  _God_ , he was just about to kiss Rowan.  
  
They could have saved him from doing something stupid. But he'd already grabbed her hand, hadn't that ship already sailed? She had called him ridiculous immediately after, but then, they were  _always_  calling each other ridiculous.  
  
He was now lost on what to think. Was it a for the best or not that they hadn't actually locked lips?  
  
"Shouldn't you guys be in school or something?" Rowan sighed as she rejoined the group, abandoning the trail to approach the snow-covered youths.  
  
"Christmas break! Isn't that why  _you're_  not in school?" Caleb asked.  
  
"True," Rowan said, brushing snow off of Jamie's hat as she got close enough. "It would seem that Jack already got adequate Revenge on all of you."  
  
"Oh, this is just the beginning," Jack said, hanging upside down from his knees on the branch. "No one initiates a sneak snowball attack on Jack Frost and gets away with it."  
  
"Well, maybe if you weren't making googley eyes you would've seen it coming," Claude snickered. His laughter was quickly halted as Jack "accidentally" dropped more snow from a nearby branch atop the boy.  
  
"What are you doing here, Rowan?" Jamie asked.  
  
"What, not happy to see me?" she asked, pretending to be very much insulted.  
  
"It's great to see you but… you know, you're supposed to be in Massachusetts," Jamie said vaguely.  
  
"Are you two on a date?" Pippa asked, pointing to Jack and Rowan.  
  
"What? No, no, we're just hanging out, he brought me by because he keeps trying to get me to go flying with him. I think he likes scaring me," Rowan said, cheeks turning red.  
  
"You make it too easy," said Jack.  
  
"Besides, Jack's three hundred years older than me," Rowan said. "It's really the equivalent of hanging out in a nursing home all day."  
  
She lowered her voice to a whisper while addressing the kids, "His mind's starting to really go."  
  
"I heard that," Jack said.  
  
"Of course you did, your ears are massive," Rowan replied. The children laughed.  
  
"And I am  _not_  three-hundred years older than you," Jack said. "I'm two-hundred and ninety-eight years older than you."  
  
Rowan simply stared at him for a moment before responding dryly, "You're absolutely right, Jack, those two years make so much difference."  
  
Did the age difference bother her that much or was this simply more teasing? Jack had never much acknowledged their age gap, it had never been very noticeable.  
  
"So if you two aren't on a date then why was he about to-" Cupcake started before a snowball plowed straight into her face. A snarl quickly came to her face as she wiped the snow away to find that Jamie had been the one to throw it.  
  
"GIRLS VERSUS BOYS!" Cupcake yelled immediately, scooping snow into her hands and pelting it at Jamie.  
  
"There's more of us than you!" Monty shouted, ducking behind Claude as Rowan, smiling, tossed a snowball in their direction.  
  
"We've got Cupcake, she's worth at least four of you," Rowan retorted.  
  
"Not to mention we've got the brains," Pippa added, sticking her tongue out at the opposing group before a snowball crashed into her chest.  
  
"Yeah, but I'm the personification of winter," Jack said, landing beside the boys with a smirk. The boys cheered, obviously thrilled to have the spirit on their team.  
  
"Whatever, old man," Rowan said, feigning a yawn as though she were not impressed with his abilities at all. Hadn't she called him an  _artist_  a few minutes ago?  
  
Jack responded by sending a snowball straight into the side of her head. She retaliated with a snowball to his chest. The others joined in and a grand snow battle erupted. It was true, the teams were not evenly matched, what with the boys having numbers and a magical being on their side, but the girls kept up well enough. Particularly when Rowan simply began forming piles of snowballs for Cupcake, the girl with the best aim. Jack was certain, however, that Rowan had only started doing this after seeing him conjure up more ammunition for his team.  
  
Shots fired slowed considerably after a while, with several children sitting aside to brush away snow from their person and watch the others. By the time the snow flinging had ceased, there was no clear winner, everyone was simply slumped over in the snow, laughing slightly.  
  
Pippa asked Rowan about college and she began telling the kids what all about it was different from the public schools they'd be stuck in for the next few years. As she talked, Jamie approached Jack and spoke to him in hushed tones.  
  
"Can I talk to you?" the boy asked.  
  
"Yeah, sure," Jack said, cocking a brow before walking away from the group with Jamie. Glancing back, he noticed Rowan watching them leave, but she seemed to be the only one to notice their departure. The others were much more interested in Caleb's question, which was whether or not Rowan had to still take math when she was getting a degree in art.  
  
Jack and Jamie tucked themselves away into another part of the woods. Jack lazily perched upon a sturdy tree branch, watching the boy expectantly as he began hanging from one of the lower hanging branches.  
  
"Are you spending all your time with Rowan now?" Jamie asked.  
  
"No," Jack said vaguely, shaking his head. It wasn't a complete lie. He spent at least a few hours each day without her, didn't he? Oh, he was hopeless. "Just some of it, she has a life and I have winter to spread, and the Guardians keep having meetings."  
  
"Do you like her?" Jamie asked.  
  
"She's my friend, so, yeah," Jack said with a shrug, eyes fixed on his staff.  
  
"I mean,  _like_  like her," Jamie said with great emphasis. "Like boyfriend-girlfriend like her."  
  
Jack was silent for a moment, creating snowflakes in his palm as he seemed to consider his answer. The snowball that prevented that kiss, was it Jamie that threw it? He had seemed confused that Jack had brought Rowan along with him and had thrown  _another_  snowball when Cupcake was about to bring up the kiss-that-almost-happened. "The idea really bugs you, doesn't it, Kiddo?"  
  
Jamie finally pulled himself atop the branch he'd been hanging from. "Just, if you guys become boyfriend-girlfriend, then maybe you won't have time for blizzards anymore, and maybe Rowan won't have time for stories. Because you'll both be too busy making googley eyes at each other like you just were over there."  
  
"What, and sitting in trees, K-I-S-S-I-N-G?" Jack laughed. "I'm Jack Frost, Jamie, I will  _always_  have time for blizzards, that's what I do. And I wouldn't worry about Rowan's stories, I think she'd sooner give up a limb before them."  
  
Jamie smiled. "Promise?"  
  
"Promise," Jack said, flying over to the branch where the boy sat and holding his pinky finger out to him. Jamie smirked before hooking his own finger with Jack's. Pinky promises, of course, could not be broken.  
  
"Good," Jamie said. "You didn't answer me though, do you  _like_  like her?"  
  
"Yeah, I do," Jack said.  
  
Jamie nodded slowly. "Pippa and Cupcake kept saying you did."  
  
"Is that all you were worried about? No 'what are your intentions with my cousin' speech?" Jack teased. "I mean, no one said she liked  _me_ , so."  
  
"She likes  _weird_  guys. She brought her old boyfriend to our house over the summer. He collected pens. Who collects  _pens?_ " Jamie said, brow furrowed. "Being a Guardian is probably just as weird, I bet you have a shot."  
  
Jack laughed. "Well, that's good to know. C'mon, let's go back to the others."  
  
"All right," Jamie said, climbing down from the branch. "I guess I can't tell Rowan you like her, huh?"  
  
"I think she's got to at least  _sort_  of know by now," Jack mumbled as they rejoined the group. "Don't worry about us, we'll figure it out."  
  
"I've got Ophelia, Hamlet, Poe, The Horseman-" Rowan was saying, ticking off her fingers.  
  
"Oh, no, you're not talking about those creepy dolls now are you?" Jack winced.  
  
"What, you don't like my dolls?" Rowan asked.  
  
"When I'm at your apartment and wake up in the middle of the night, they're just watching me maniacally," Jack shuddered.  
  
"What are you doing sleeping in Rowan's apartment?" Pippa asked. Jack and Rowan's eyes immediately widened and color rushed to their cheeks. Truly, it was almost impressive, the synchronized nature in which they expressed terror at what had just been revealed.  
  
"Uh…" Jack started.  
  
"Do you two have an adult relationship?" Claude asked.  
  
 _"What?"_  Rowan said, staring at the young boy in surprise, her cheeks growing a brighter shade of red.  
  
"Our mom said that our uncle and his fiancé live together even though they're not married yet because they have an adult relationship," Caleb elaborated.  
  
"No one's getting married," Jack said, shaking his head.  
  
"There's no relationship," Rowan added hesitantly.  
  
"Hey, Rowan," Jamie said suddenly, sitting down in the snow beside Pippa. "Why don't you tell us the next part of your story?"  
  
Rowan looked almost as relieved as Jack felt that Jamie had changed the subject.  
  
"I've only been telling you and Jack the story, though," Rowan said.  
  
"Jamie's been telling us the parts you tell him," Monty said. "Tell us the next part!"  
  
"Oh  _God_ , now there's Lost Boys," Rowan mumbled to herself.  
  
"What?" Cupcake asked.  
  
"Nothing, nothing," she said, sitting up a bit straighter. The children shifted slightly, getting comfortable while listening intently to what she had to say. "But fine, fine, okay, I suppose I can tell you all the next part… so, we left off with Jack and Miss Gates, who will henceforth be known as Anne, heading off to speak with Jack's witch friend so that they could figure out where to start with the challenge the Sea Witch had given them."  
  
Jack silently walked around the group, finally kneeling down behind Rowan as she spoke. She turned to glance at him with a quizzical look on her face.  
  
"Just keep telling it," he smiled, raising his staff and one hand. She turned back to the group and continued.  
  
"Jack and Anne mounted their horses and raced off to the witch's lair," Rowan said. She paused again and gasped as two small, frost figures appeared before her, walking across the snow that sat between her and the group of kids. The kids pointed, delighted at the sight of the figures as they climbed atop frost horses and began to gallop. Rowan glanced back at Jack, who was focusing on the figures intently, forming more frost as it was needed.  
  
"Keep going," he laughed.  
  
"Once they got there, Anne was apprehensive about approaching another witch. They already had enough issues with just one, after all, but there were few other options available for them at the time. So, reluctantly, she followed Jack inside, met with the witch, and the two of them explained their challenge."  
  
As Rowan spoke, Jack was quick to direct his icy figures to act out the scene. He conjured a witch quickly, a stout figure to speak to the first two.  
  
"The witch did, in fact, know all about the seven enchanted gems that they had to seek out. Taking a piece of parchment, the old woman carefully drew the chain of islands before marking this makeshift map with X's in seven different places. She warned them that locating the gems was going to be the easy part, for each were in possession of powerful individuals who either hid them, or kept them securely on their person at all times. This was all beside the fact that Jack and Anne were not the only ones seeking the gems.  
  
"Anne was visibly overwhelmed and questioned how they were supposed to do all of this before the next full moon. The witch simply laughed, saying that it was very likely they wouldn't, and invited them to visit her as spirits once they failed. She could always use some new, ghostly companions. Feeling particularly hopeless, Jack and Anne reluctantly thanked the witch for her information before taking the map she had drawn and leaving her hut."  
  
Rowan was perhaps just as in awe of the snowy figures acting out the scenes as the kids were. Her eyes hadn't left them, smiling as she watched them move based on her words. Again, Jack couldn't help but smile as well.  
  
"Jack began speaking of plans to steal a ship, as Anne had been planning to earlier. Anne, who was examining the map, pointed out that one of the gems was on the island they were already on, so perhaps they shouldn't be rushing off just yet.  
  
"'We just robbed the governor,' Jack pointed out. 'I don't want to say here any longer than I have to.'  
  
"'Great, we'll get the gem and then never come back,' Anne replied. They reached the clearing where they had left the horses and found that they were gone. They barely had a moment to be confused about this before rifles, adorned with the pointiest of bayonets, were suddenly pointed directly at them. Several officers had been hiding and waiting for the pair to return and immediately placed them under arrest for robbing the governor.  
  
"'How did they even find us?' Anne groaned as they were escorted to a carriage that would take them to the island's holding cells.  
  
"'Remember how I said that  _my_  curse was bad luck?' was Jack's response. It was becoming increasingly obvious that every single possible odd was working against Jack and Anne in their quest."  
  
"How are they supposed to get any of the gems if they're in jail?" Jamie asked.  
  
"This was exactly what  _they_  wanted to know. Their weapons  _and_  the map were confiscated from them and they were placed in separate cells, with Jack's cellmate being the very same drunk that he'd stolen the butler's uniform from, and Anne situated in the next cell by herself. The drunk, who was sobering up by now, asked Jack why he was wearing his clothes. Jack simply said it was a long story. The drunk gestured to their cell, asking what on earth else they had to do. And so, Jack began to explain the predicament to the drunk.  
  
"'Are you  _really_  having story time right now?' came Anne's voice from the next cell. 'We need to get out of here!'  
  
"'Well, how exactly are we supposed to do that?' Jack asked.  
  
"I've been trying to pick the lock on my cell but it's not working, here,' Anne said, reaching between the bars to his cell, a few hair pins in her hand. Jack had managed his way around several of the locks inside the Governor's mansion, after all.  
  
"Suddenly, the drunk man in Jack's cell began to speak again. 'Miss Gates?' he asked, 'is that you?'  
  
"'Oh, is that you Mr. Perry?' said Anne. 'I was wondering where you'd turn up after the governor gave your job away.' Mr. Perry simply shook his head and began muttering about how he never thought he'd see the day when  _Miss Gates_  would find herself incarcerated. Jack continued his attempts to pick the lock."  
  
The cells that Jack had constructed for the snow figures were formed from icicles. The small, snowy Jack was picking away at a small ice lock with even smaller shards of ice.  
  
"'I'm starting to think that position might be cursed, considering my replacement is apparently in this cell with me,' Mr. Perry finally said. Jack assured him that it was simply  _him_  who was cursed with bad luck. After further clarification that  _yes,_  Jack was being serious, there was really a curse, Mr. Perry had to ask why on earth they were relying on him to get out of jail.  
  
"Anne really didn't have an answer for that, besides the fact that she didn't know how to successfully pick a lock. Jack insisted he didn't need luck for this, but rather, skill, and in the next instant, sure enough, he was able to get the lock open. Mr. Perry followed Jack out of the cell carefully, as though worried it were all a trick. Any other prisoner would have ran off the moment the cell was opened but Mr. Perry lurked nearby as Jack attempted to unlock Anne's cell. 'Where will you be headed next, then?' the older man asked.  
  
"'We need to get our weapons and our map back  _and_ a gem, then we have to get a boat so we can get away from this island,' Anne said, watching nervously as Jack picked at the lock. Much to their surprise, Mr. Perry asked if he could come along. All he had to do anymore was drink and continue to end up in alleyways and prison. Jack was apprehensive but Anne assured him that while Mr. Perry was a bit of a sloppy drunk, he took orders well. An extra set of hands might not be a bad idea. Especially if they'd have to be combating Jack's bad luck for the entirety of their quest.  
  
"Jack agreed, finally getting Anne's cell open. 'Come on, then, boys, let's go break these curses,' she said before leading the way to the exit."  
  
The snow figures of Anne, Jack and Mr. Perry rushed off before vanishing, disappearing into the surrounding snow.  
  
"Then what happened?" Monty said eagerly.  
  
"That's all I've got for you guys right now," Rowan said with a shrug. The children groaned in disappointment. Jack took note that a lot of things with Rowan were stopping just short of resolution that day. She smiled. "Don't worry, I'm going to keep working on it."


	29. Say You Will

__Rowan didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Jack didn’t seem to either._ _

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Say You Will**

* * *

  
  
Erato was delighted when the yetis presented her with a cup of tea and found that it was her favorite: peppermint, with just the right amount of honey. North's workers never failed to impress her with their astounding memory and attention to small details. Not to mention, she deeply appreciated that they seemed entirely unfazed by the fact that she had dropped by the pole unannounced. The last thing she needed was to deal with large, furry creatures kicking up a fuss.  
  
She strolled leisurely through the buzzing factory, gracefully stepping aside several times in order to avoid tripping over one of the elves or a stray gift. As she sipped from the teacup, she sighed. "Even the  _temperature_  is perfect, how does he manage this?"  
  
She didn't know of any other operation that possessed such efficient workers.  
  
The Muse continued wandering around, working on her beverage before she found North examining a map with one of the yetis. North, pen in hand, marked a few locations on the map before the Yeti rushed off somewhere else with it.  
  
"Hello, Nicky," Erato smiled, approaching him.  
  
"Hello, Erato," North nodded, visibly blushing at the nickname. It was the entire reason she used it. "Are you stepping in as messenger with Urania out with the stars?"  
  
"No, though we should really assign someone her responsibilities while she's gone, shouldn't we?" Erato said thoughtfully. Sometime to run by Calliope when they all met up with Tooth later, she supposed. "I'm just here to visit. Don't you ever get visitors unless there's bad news, Nicky?"  
  
"Not recently," North chuckled. "Particularly not from the Muses."  
  
"Well, we need to change that," Erato said, raising her teacup to her lips once more. "We used to visit all the time, I sort of miss it."  
  
"Yelena is not here anymore to visit with," North said. His tone was not sad, but rather, he seemed to simply be stating facts.  
  
"You are," Erato shrugged. "I mean, she wasn't the only reason we came."  
  
North laughed. "You all hated me."  
  
"You Guardians are always so hyperbolic," Erato rolled her eyes as they began walking around the factory, side by side. "Jack's the same way.  _'Oh, all the Muses hate me!'_  It's not like that, it's just fun giving him a hard time. Besides, he reminds me of Cupid in a way, I can't entirely dislike him. As far as  _you_  go, well, we were very fond of Yelena, we were simply being protective. We warmed up to you."  
  
" _Some_  of you warmed up to me," North stressed.  
  
"Okay, so it took some of us more time than others but we all love you now, you were  _so good_  to Yelena. You're always so good to all of us. I really do miss the impromptu visits," she said. "So when I was catching a ride on one of Sandy's dream creatures, I thought, 'I'm going to take a detour and see Nicky,' and thus, here I am."  
  
"Where were you heading?" North asked.  
  
"Oh, I was going to visit Tooth early. It truly is exhausting to have to travel and stay in daylight all the time, I'm glad we at least got that arranged for the New Moon," Erato explained. "Cupid's been getting on my case whenever he finds me somewhere at dusk."  
  
"He cares very much for you," North said.  
  
"He'd better, after everything I've done for him," the blonde smiled. "Everyone is just… stressing out so much lately, it's tiring."  
  
"They are, I wish there was something I could do to ease everyone's minds," North said, shaking his head.  
  
"Maybe we need a distraction," Erato said, fuchsia eyes lighting up as a magnificent idea came to her. North watched her suspiciously as they stopped at a nearby platform so that he could lend a group of Yetis a hand.  
  
"What kind of distraction?" he asked, returning his gaze to the pulley system that needed his attention more than the Muse right now.  
  
"The party kind," Erato said. "You haven't had the New Years Ball in  _centuries."_  
  
Some of the nearby Yetis seemed to light up at the mention, watching North eagerly for his response. North was focused on the Muse yet again, brow furrowed. "That ball was one of Yelena's projects."  
  
"I know, but it was more than just Yelena playing host," Erato said, leaning against a pillar as she spoke. "It was this… fantastic gathering of mythical beings. It was a chance for all of us to catch up and enjoy ourselves, to celebrate and take a few hours to stop worrying about work."  
  
"It will not be the same without her," North pointed out, releasing the pulley as another yeti came by to take his place.  
  
"It doesn't have to be," Erato said. "I mean, unless Calliope still wants to get tipsy, that should definitely still happen. Drunk Calliope is my favorite version of Calliope."  
  
"I think that is everyone's favorite version of Calliope," North laughed. "The ball  _did_  used to be a way to thank the Yetis for all their work throughout the year…" The Yetis immediately began to babble encouragingly once this was mentioned.  
  
"Yeah, don't they deserve a party? Besides, that band they used to have was excellent," said Erato. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind a change of pace by helping prepare for a party rather than Christmas, too."  
  
North stroked his beard thoughtfully, eyeing Erato as she finished off her tea and an elf immediately appeared to take her empty cup. She handed the elf her cup and saucer, patting his head affectionately before returning her attention to North.  
  
"Despite the trouble with the Shadow People, there  _is_  quite a bit to celebrate this year," he said. Erato and a few of the Yetis immediately nodded. "Belief is very high despite the dark forces at work this year, Jack is Guardian now…"  
  
"Sanderson's health, our solid alliance," Erato added. "It's been a very stressful, concerning time, but we shouldn't ignore all the good things that have happened… we should  _definitely_  celebrate them."  
  
"Was that the whole point of you coming here, to convince me to revive this ball?" North asked, raising a brow at her critically.  
  
"No! But either way, did I succeed?" Erato asked, smiling.  
  
"Perhaps," North said vaguely.  
  
"Oh come on, give me a yes or a no, Santa Claus, I've been a good girl this year," Erato pouted.  
  
"We both know  _that_  is a lie," North smirked.  
  
"Hey-! Well, yeah, okay, you're right."  
  
"If we can work something out between working on the weapons… then you should expect an invitation," North said. The Yetis and elves cheered, Erato grinned.  
  
"Oh, wait until the other Muses hear about this!"  
  
"Is still up in the air, do not get anyone's hopes up," North said.  
  
"I think you've already done that with these guys," Erato said, gesturing to the yetis.  
  
"True," North sighed. After a beat, he said, "This will be the first one without her."  
  
"She would've wanted it to keep going," Erato smiled.  
  
"I just want to do it justice, you know if she were still here, she would never let me hear the end of it if I ruin her ball."  
  
"Oh, you won't ruin it, look at the operation you're running here! I think you can handle a party," she laughed. She took a few steps closer to North, lightly placing a hand to his arm. "We all miss her, you know. It was a shame when she didn't make the transition."  
  
"She wouldn't have wanted to," North shrugged.  
  
"I don't think any of us  _wanted_  to," Erato said. "You just have to do the best with what you're dealt. Speaking of which, have you heard anything new about the Mortal Muse? … or her relationship with one Mr. Jack Frost?"  
  
"Somehow I think you are more interested in the relationship aspect," North said.  
  
"What, me, the Muse of Love Poetry? Interested in the relationship part? You don't know me at  _all_ , Nicky, obviously I would _never_  meddle into someone else's love life," Erato said sarcastically, unable to keep a straight face as she spoke.  
  
"Am I supposed to tell you what he told me so that you can run off and tell the other Muses?" North asked.  
  
"I can't even argue that one because I  _would_  rush off and tell them," Erato said. Whenever it was said that the Muses were gossips, it was most certainly not a lie. "Well, maybe not Melpomene. But if I told Thalia,  _she_  would probably tell Melpomene, so."  
  
"Jack seems to be more apprehensive around Melpomene than most people are," North commented, watching the Muse expectantly.  
  
"Oh, what, I'm supposed to tell you what happened with Jack and Mel but you don't have to tell me what Jack told you about Rowan? Gossip doesn't work that way," Erato said, clicking her tongue on North disapprovingly. "Though I will say, I think it's adorable that he's confiding in you. It's so nice to see you acting paternal again, and I do think Jack could benefit from having a father figure around."  
  
"He reminds me much of Peter," North admitted.  
  
"Oh he's  _just_  like Peter, except with an even  _worse_  attitude. If Yelena were still around, she would have straightened Jack out ages ago. Well, to an extent. Peter was always a little angel around Yelena but once her back was turned…" Erato said, smiling at the memory of the St. Norths and their children. "Anyway, I doubt Jack told you  _too_  much that couldn't otherwise be figured out. I already know that he's falling for her, you don't need to be the Muse of Love Poetry to decipher  _that_  one. I'm curious about how  _she_  may feel for  _him."_  
  
" _That_  I do not know, I have not even  _seen_  Miss Sawyer since we broke the news to her," North shrugged.  
  
"It's not uncommon for Muses and Guardians to be drawn to each other, in platonic ways or otherwise," Erato said. "But then, you know that."  
  
"I very much do," North nodded.  
  
"Jack is cute, he exudes confidence, but she also tased him. It's all very interesting, I'd love to see them both in the same room to get a better idea of how they work," Erato said.  
  
"I had almost forgotten about the tasing," North chuckled.  
  
"Jack seems to be a bit of a masochist," Erato commented. She was beginning to wonder if yet another Muse would be capable of hurting the winter spirit.  
  


* * *

  
The moonbeams never seemed very bright when they ventured into Pitch's lair, but they were especially dim now that the new moon was so close. The unfortunate moonbeam that had been assigned to Pitch was lurking close to Melpomene's moonbeam, both orbs seeming to keep a cautious distance from the pair.  
  
"That was some deal you made with the Guardians," Melpomene said, taking a seat on the arm of Pitch's grand throne once more. Pitch was seated comfortably, watching the lights on the globe.  
  
"You don't approve?"  
  
"You didn't give yourself any room to do much of anything until this alliance gets called off," she said, eyeing the globe now as well.  
  
"The whole point was to keep me living until the Shadow People are taken care of, and get to the Mortal Muse in the meantime to regain my strength," Pitch said, sounding very bored as he spoke, as though explaining this to Melpomene was a waste of his time.  
  
"How are you supposed to do that with the conditions they laid out?" Melpomene asked, crossing her arms before her chest and watching the man skeptically.  
  
"I promised that I wouldn't lay a hand on the Mortal Muse. And I won't. I don't need to touch her to give her a nightmare," Pitch said with a shrug. Melpomene rose a brow.  
  
"You said you wouldn't interfere with anyone's dreams," she said.  
  
"No, I said I wouldn't mess with the  _children's_  dreams. Rowan Sawyer is an adult. A young one, surely, but an adult, nonetheless," Pitch pointed out.  
  
"Now you're basically a lawyer," Melpomene sighed. "Really, Pitch, there's so many occupations you're better suited for than Boogie Man."  
  
"If only this were a path I  _chose_ ," he said bitterly.  
  
"What about the fact that you're not meant to actively work against anyone in this alliance? And the fact that the Sandman is now guarding her as well?" Melpomene asked, sliding from her place on the arm of the chair and into his lap.  
  
"The Sandman will be guarding  _me_  during the new moon. If I behave myself… perhaps they'll let their guards down," Pitch said.  
  
"Yeah, that'll happen," Melpomene laughed. "And in the meantime?"  
  
"Rowan is still frightened. Very frightened, actually. I don't have to do anything right now," Pitch smiled.  
  
"What on earth could she still be afraid of? After everything the Guardians are doing to keep her safe?"  
  
"Jack Frost," Pitch said simply. "Her feelings for him  _terrify_  her."  
  


* * *

  
The flight back to the Sawyer residence was silent and sort of uncomfortable. Rowan hadn't begged Jack to stop being so reckless as they returned; Jack hadn't been cracking his usual jokes. The kids had provided a decent distraction immediately after their near-kiss and forced  _some_  normalcy, but now?  
  
Rowan didn't know what to say, and she didn't know how to feel about the fact that Jack didn't seem to either.  
  
"Done working for the day, Dad?" Rowan asked as she set her snow-covered boots near the door after locking it. Jack was already busying himself examining the family pictures again. Bill was seated on an armchair with a magazine held at arm's length as he squinted.  
  
"Yeah, I finished pretty early, thought I'd finally read last month's issue," Bill said, brow furrowed as he attempted to hold the magazine even further away from himself.  
  
"I can see that's going very well," Rowan said, glancing between her father and his reading material. "Mom still at the office?"  
  
"Yeah, she's trying to get as much done before Christmas as possible, so she'll still be a little while, I'm going to start dinner soon," Bill said. He finally sighed and sat his magazine in his lap. "Angel Face, will you do me a favor?"  
  
"What's the favor?" Rowan asked.  
  
"My reading glasses are on my desk, can you get them for me?"  
  
"Can't do it yourself, hm? I figured I had a good few years before I had to start taking care of you guys to such an extent," Rowan teased.  
  
"This is just training for when your mother and I are too old and weak to walk up the stairs in this silly house we decided to purchase," Bill smiled.  
  
"All right, I'll be back," Rowan said, walking toward the staircase. Jack was quick to follow her, and she was careful to keep her gaze forward. She hadn't looked Jack in the eye since the almost-kiss.  
  
She couldn't stop thinking about it; the brief conversation with her father had been her only moment of peace since the incident. Jack was going to  _kiss her_. She was going to  _let him_.  
  
Hadn't she already decided that liking Jack was a bad idea? Hadn't she already made the decision not to pursue anything because heartache was inevitable? He was immortal, she was not. This whole situation was much too complicated already.  
  
But then she'd stare into his icy blues and his fingers would brush up against her, and she'd forget all of that. She was going to let him kiss her, and then the kids interrupted.  
  
She hated this conflict, she hated that she couldn't look at him now.  
  
If she looked at him, she'd meet those puppy dog eyes again. She'd forget all logical arguments and just remember lying with him, talking about their past heartaches. All the stories they shared, all the times he made her smile and forget just how much danger she was in.  
  
She flipped the light switch in her father's office and stepped inside. It was small, and appeared much smaller thanks to the amount of collectables cluttering the walls. There was even a mannequin in the corner, donned in the far-too-expensive-for-a-coat Malcolm Reynolds replica coat. Rowan walked toward the desk directly ahead of her where, sure enough, the thick-framed reading glasses resided. Chancing a glance toward Jack, she found him examining her father's extensive action figure collection on the far shelves.  
  
"People seem to really like this guy," Jack said, pointing to the nearby figure of Captain Kirk, as he was portrayed in the more recent film adaptations.  
  
"Captain Kirk or the actor?" Rowan asked. It was the first time they had spoken since they left Burgess. She supposed Jack chose the action figure as a topic because it was neutral ground. It was nice that the silence had finally been broken, but she still couldn't help but think about their moment in the woods earlier.  
  
"The actor," Jack said. "Something about him throws me off, though."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I think it's his voice," he said. "It's really familiar but I can't place it."  
  
"I hate when that happens," Rowan said, forcing a smile. The conversation seemed to die quickly after that, with each of them avoiding eye contact, shifting uncomfortably. She held up the glasses in her hand. "I, uh, gotta take my dad his glasses."  
  
"Right."  
  
She stepped outside the office and Jack followed, turning the light off as he went. Everything was so stupid now, so tense that they had held hands and almost kissed. It was such an innocent occurrence, hell, it was hardly an occurrence at all considering that nothing had actually happened. And yet here they were, having barely said a few words to each other in the past ten minutes.  
  
How could they share a bed and be fine but the moment hand-holding and a kiss come into the picture? Oh no, that's much too forward and awkward.  
  
Rowan needed things to start making sense again, and soon.  
  
"I bring you the gift of sight," Rowan said, handing Bill his glasses, which he gladly took and put on.  
  
"Thank you, you're my favorite daughter," he smiled, turning his attention back to the magazine.  
  
"I'm your  _only_  daughter," Rowan said.  
  
"So it's a good thing you're my favorite, just think how awkward it would be otherwise," Bill chuckled. Not anywhere near as awkward as whatever was going on with Rowan and the boy in the corner that Bill couldn't see, that was for sure.  
  
Rowan forced a smile, though her father was focused on his article, before turning away and walking through an arched walkway to the kitchen. She rummaged through a cupboard for a glass, filled it at the sink and slowly took a drink, eyes fixed on the window above the sink. The snow was falling gently outside.  
  
"So, are you just not going to look at me anymore?" Jack asked. He sounded hesitant. She kept the glass to her lips, if only to buy herself more time before she had to respond.  
  
What was she supposed to say? Why were words failing her so fantastically right now? She was a storyteller, wasn't she? Why couldn't she come up with a single thing to say?  
  
What could she say? That she had feelings for him but the idea of actually acting on those feelings terrified her? That her heart would simply not stop pounding, that its beats were the loudest thing in the world right now?  
  
Setting her glass down, she slowly turned in order to properly face him at last. She had been certain that her heart couldn't beat any faster, but the moment their eyes met, she found that she was wrong.  
  
She'd never found a shade of blue so frustrating in her life.  
  
"We can't just… act like nothing happened," Jack said after it became increasingly clear that Rowan wasn't about to say anything.  
  
"Nothing  _did_  happen," Rowan said, tones hushed though she as certain her father wouldn't be able to hear anyway. Whenever he was reading, he seemed to tune everything out.  
  
"Something almost did," Jack said. "Until the kids showed up."  
  
"But nothing did," she said, barely above a whisper.  
  
"Yeah, well," Jack mumbled, gesturing to the ceiling. Rowan raised a brow before glancing up and finding mistletoe secured above them. Of course.  _Of course._  It was as though the universe was  _trying_  to make her "don't act on any feelings for Jack" plan fail spectacularly. She sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes or run away.  
  
"My dad," she said sheepishly. "He, uh, puts that there so he can sneak up on my mom when she's doing the dishes, he's… really ridiculous."  
  
"Well," Jack said, lightly placing a hand to her cheek. "I think we've already established that I'm  _also_  ridiculous."  
  
"Jack," she started, unsure where exactly she was going from there. This entire  _thing_  was ridiculous. They were in the same position they had been in earlier, her  _father_  was reading a magazine in the next room, and how had she forgotten about his stupid mistletoe? He put it in the same spot every year.  
  
She wanted to kiss him, more than anything she wanted to kiss him, but she was too afraid to lean in and do it herself, to be the one that closed the distance between them. Mistletoe was such a silly ritual. All of this was so silly. If they were smart they'd back away, they'd pretend that none of this happened.  
  
And yet,  _if you're going to kiss me, just kiss me already_ , was all she could think of, unable to bring herself to utter it aloud. She remembered again that even Peter and Wendy had gotten a kiss. It seemed that no sooner had the thought passed her mind that Jack was leaning forward, head tilted just enough so that their noses wouldn't awkwardly bump.  
  
Shivering, she closed her eyes, realizing that yet again, she was doing nothing to stop him. She knew very well that this was going to end terribly, but in that moment she simply didn't care.  
  
Heart pounding in her ears, the air chilled as he inched ever closer, her breath fogging before her. Once again she could smell the wonderful scent of pine on him. He was much too close now. There was no longer an escape route.  
  
His lips were cold, as expected, but gentle. She could feel her own lips growing cold, slightly numb, as the kiss continued, frost forming down her chin and quickly melting away.  
  
She couldn't help kissing him back, shivering slightly as their lips moved, unsure if the cold could be blamed alone for her goosebumps, for the chills rushing up and down her spine. There was something simply  _electric_  about this contact. She'd never had a kiss quite like this. It ended much too soon.  
  
When Jack pulled away, he was halted in his attempts by their lower lips sticking to one another, much like one's tongue might get stuck to an ice cube. Brow furrowed, he pressed their lips together again, perhaps in the hopes that her body heat would correct the situation. This kiss was far briefer, though her body reacted in much the same way, with goosebumps and electricity. Their lips made a clean break when he pulled away the second time.  
  
"That, uh, last part wasn't supposed to happen," Jack laughed nervously, his cheeks taking on a pink tint. Rowan bit her lip and glanced away, her heartrate refusing to slow.  
  
That  _whole thing_  wasn't supposed to happen! What on earth had she been thinking? There was nothing about this that was going to work out; she couldn't be  _kissing_  the immortal, mythological being that had been assigned to guard her from Shadow People. There was a reason,  _several reasons actually,_  that she had made a decision not to take this anywhere. All of those reasons, all those insecurities, crashed into her like a tidal wave.  
  
He reached forward to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His fingers brushing against her cheek made her knees weak. He was leaning in again,  _oh God, he was leaning in again._  
  
She had to stop this.  
  
"Look, Jack," Rowan said, stepping aside, eyes darting to his chest rather than his eyes, unable to keep focus there as she forced out the words. "Maybe… um. Well, maybe…"  
  
She couldn't finish her sentence. The fact was that she wanted to kiss him again, she  _wanted_  to be with him, but he was immortal, she wasn't. No one else could see him. There was nothing working in their favor, nothing but the strong  _want_. There was nothing saying they  _should_  do this.  
  
"Maybe what?" Jack asked.  
  
"Just… Maybe it's for the better that we got interrupted earlier," Rowan said, glancing to the floor. The words tasted bitter. She gripped the edge of the counter to keep her hands from shaking. Anxiety was building up in her being and she hated every minute of it. She hadn't felt this terrified since she found out she was the Mortal Muse. "Maybe we shouldn't have done that."  
  
She insisted to herself that this was the right thing. This was what she  _should_  do, despite her stomach turning as she spoke.  
  
"Am I misreading things?" Jack asked, confused. He leaned over, attempting to catch Rowan's gaze, still on the floor. "I mean… I thought that we had something.  _You kissed me back._ "  
  
His tone was already beginning to sound defeated, which made her heart sink. Did they  _have something?_  Obviously. Part of her was absolutely thrilled that he had taken her hand, that he had attempted to kiss her earlier and had succeeded moments ago. Combined with the conversation they were having now, it confirmed that he returned her feelings.  
  
This should have made things easier. It didn't. At least if he only thought of her as a friend, then she could try to move on and stop with her back and forth. Because then there would be no chance of anything happening. But now there was.  
  
 _He was immortal, she wasn't._  She was going to grow old and die. He was going to stay the same. There was no hope for them. Why even bother?  
  
Because she wanted to. She wanted to so badly. She wanted to have more days like this one had started. Talking to him with no reservations, so comfortably, more comfortably than she'd ever spoken to anyone. Walking with him, laughing, holding his hand.  
  
"It doesn't matter, it wouldn't work," Rowan forced the words from her throat, still not meeting his eyes.  
  
"How do you figure that?" Jack said, leaning against the counter beside her, now staring at the ground as well. Eye contact seemed impossible. When he spoke again, he was very hesitant, nervous, which took Rowan by surprise. "I mean, you have feelings for me, right? I, um, I have feelings for  _you."_  
  
There. He'd said it out loud. She finally looked up, though he was focused on his staff in his hands.  
  
"It's not that easy," she said.  
  
"Why can't it be?"  
  
Jack had to know why it couldn't be easy. Rowan hadn't stopped thinking about why it couldn't be easy. She had gone through so many scenarios in her head where if just  _one thing_  were different somehow, they could give some kind of relationship a try without all these supernatural oddities getting in the way.  
  
He had to know why. Did he just want to hear her say it?  
  
"Because you're immortal and I'm not," Rowan said weakly, Jack finally meeting her eyes, her voice trembling. "I mean, unless I die in a way that's deemed 'inspiring enough' by a big ball of gas in the sky, and I don't want that. I'm not cut out for that."  
  
"So you're mortal, so what? We're not the first people to be in this situation," Jack said.  
  
"I'm not Yelena," Rowan said.  
  
"And I'm not North," Jack said. "But we can't just-"  
  
"Who's Yelena?" Bill said as he entered the kitchen, reading glasses now situated on his head. Jack and Rowan each briefly took on an expression of horror before Rowan faked composure as well as she could, turning her attention to her father. He was rummaging through one of the cupboards for a pot.  
  
"What?" Rowan said.  
  
"Who's Yelena? You just said 'I'm not Yelena.' Sounds Russian," Bill said, still sorting through the cupboard.  
  
"I didn't say anything, Dad, I think you're hearing things, going crazy in your old age," Rowan said, forcing a teasing tone in the hopes that he wouldn't notice her discomfort.  
  
"You say that like I'm not already crazy," Bill chuckled. Rowan sighed in relief. Great. He let it go.  
  
If Dot had been around, she wouldn't have. She would have noticed Rowan's nerves and kept pressing until she got answers. Rowan was in no state to be coming up with even more lies now.  
  
She was reminded, yet again, why this wasn't going to work. Could she really keep lying to her family?  
  
"Angel Face, where's that big red pot?" Bill asked.  
  
"Dishwasher, I think," Rowan said, taking Jack by the arm after being certain that her father was distracted and dragging the boy to the staircase.  
  
They would have to continue this terrible conversation upstairs.


	30. Get Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS, we're thirty chapters into this thing!

__After a moment, the dream sand turned a bright, beautiful pink, which then faded into a sultry, passionate red._ _

* * *

**Chapter Thirty: Get Out**

* * *

  
  
Rowan closed her bedroom door behind Jack and locked it, unwilling to have anyone walk in and find her talking to "herself" about the matters that she and Jack had to discuss. She wasn't sure what excuse she could possibly make up to explain away something like that.  
  
The lying was getting to her more than she thought it would. She had never been very good at it and was sort of concerned about the fact that no one had had questioned her much yet. She was waiting for Shirley to accuse her of making Jack Overland up or for her mother to sit her down and demand to know what exactly was going on with her.  
  
Was she getting better at lying? Was that a good thing? Why couldn't her stomach stop turning?  
  
The bedroom was dark, all the lights were out and the sun had since set. The only light was from the twinkling Christmas lights and the dream sand outside Rowan's window, circling the entire house.  
  
"I know you're mortal and I'm immortal and you're going to die and all of that," Jack said, the moment that Rowan turned from the door to properly face him again, leaning against it. "I've been reminded ever since I started listening in on your stories, before we  _met."_  
  
"We didn't meet very long ago, Jack," Rowan pointed out. How could he have such an affect on her in such a short amount of time? Why did it feel like it had been so much longer?  
  
"I know, but you've become one of my best friends," Jack said, careful to keep eye contact. There was nothing implying anything but sincerity.  
  
"You're one of mine," she said. "But that doesn't change the fact that you are a 318-year-old immortal being from  _legend_ , and I am a twenty-year-old art student."  
  
"Is the age difference bugging you? Because I promise, I'm really immature for my age." Wasn't that the truth? Rowan had never seen him as anything other than a peer.  
  
"It's more the  _aging_  difference," she said nervously. She was about to lay out her greatest fear when it came to Jack, and her heart simply would not slow. "What happens ten years from now, or twenty? What if we out-grow each other? Or I get too old and boring? You'll move on to something else, I'll probably have a family or something. Soon enough I'll die. Ideally it'll be an uninspiring, painless death, and you'll keep on going. I'll just be a memory, some girl you met a lifetime ago."  
  
"What if the world  _does_  end on the twenty-first and none of that matters?" Jack said. "You're thinking way too much into it."  
  
"Don't make jokes right now, Jack," Rowan said, feeling tears coming. She blinked more rapidly, hoping that they wouldn't materialize. "I'm scared, okay? I'm terrified because I could never forget you. I'm going to remember the time we've spent together for the rest of my life because you're the most magnificent thing that's happened in it but I'm afraid you're going to forget me. I'm afraid that I'm going to get old and you'll forget why you liked me in the first place. I'm afraid I'll die and enough time will pass that you'll forget the time we spent together, you'll forget what I looked like, you'll have to stop and consider what my name was-"  
  
"Rowan!" Jack interrupted her, watching her with concern. "Slow down! You're thinking too much into this, making it  _way_  more complicated than it has to be."  
  
"I'm falling for a winter spirit that's centuries older than I am and most people can't even see, how is this  _not_  complicated?" Rowan said, finally acknowledging her feelings and tearing up out of frustration.  
  
"First of all," he said, setting a hand on either one of her shoulders. She shivered, but kept her eyes fixed on his, still blinking repeatedly in an attempt to keep from crying. "I don't think I could ever forget you, even if for some reason I wanted to."  
  
"But Jack-" she started.  
  
"And you know, maybe you're right. Maybe we will outgrow each other. Maybe this won't last a lifetime. Maybe it won't last a week," Jack said, his tone far more serious than Rowan was used to. "But I would rather spend a week enjoying what we have than an immortal lifetime wondering what would have happened if we had just gone for it."  
  
"At least one of us is going to end up heartbroken," she said, feeling a tear finally rolling down her cheek.  
  
"Please don't cry," he pleaded with her, going to brush the tear away and succeeding only in freezing it. She hadn't wanted to cry in front of him, especially not over this.  
  
"Jack, there isn't any other outcome for this, just heartache. I've gone over it so many times in my mind, and every single scenario ends terribly. Why should we even bother? It's better if we just hold back," she said, wincing as she heard her voice crack.  
  
"You always do that," he said softly, normal speaking somehow too loud for the moment. "You analyze and analyze. You know every risk, and if the risks are too high you hold back. Even if it's something you really want. You're so scared to fail."  
  
"What else am I supposed to do?" she whispered.  
  
"Take a chance on us, and have a little fun, instead."  
  
"No, it isn't that easy."  
  
"Yes it is, you just need to stop fighting it."  
  
"Jack, would you even be feeling this way if it weren't for this stupid situation? If you weren't forced to be around me every night? If there weren't all this danger and adrenaline? If I wasn't a Mortal Muse?"  
  
"You're thinking too much into it."  
  
"No, Jack, you're not thinking into it enough."  
  
"You think I haven't thought about you dying? You think the thought of losing you hasn't left me terrified almost every night when I come by?  _Why do you think I was feeling around for your pulse every night, Rowan?_ "  
  
Rowan couldn't find any words, any response to that besides the tears that continued rolling down her cheeks. Her heart swelled, knowing just how much he cared about her and her life. It made everything so much harder.  _Everything_  about this conversation made everything so much harder.  
  
Why did they have to kiss? Why did they have to bring any of this to the surface, why did they have to confess to anything? What she wouldn't give to reset this day and start over.  
  
She shouldn't have kissed him back, she should have denied any feelings she had for him. She shouldn't have let him hold her hand in Burgess earlier. None of this should be happening, but here they were.  
  
Hands still on her shoulders, Jack hastily closed the distance between them again. Rowan found herself pinned between his lips and her bedroom door, this kiss far more desperate than before. Once again, she found herself moving her lips with his, kissing him back with only thoughts of how much she wanted this filling her mind.  
  
That is, until logic began to scream louder in her mind.  _Stop it, stop it!_  She groaned softly before setting her hands to his shoulders and pushing him away, frost still forming on her mouth. She stepped away from him, away from the door, and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.  
  
"No, no,  _no,"_  she mumbled.  
  
"Rowan-" Jack started.  
  
"You can't kiss me again, okay?" she said, turning back to him, tears still falling. She spoke with as much authority as she could manage, though her voice was still cracking.  
  
"Why are you doing this? You kissed me back both times, you  _said_ \- you said that you were falling for me, didn't you?"  
  
"Stop it, this can't happen," Rowan said, losing her battle with the hysteric sobs that were very quickly coming. It wasn't helping her attempts to be firm in her statements at all.  
  
"No,  _you_  stop it! Stop letting your fears dictate your life!" Jack said, frustration clear in his voice. His face showed it as well, in the dim light from the dream sand outside the window.  
  
"Stop letting impulse dictate yours!" she said, unable to help the sobs that followed this statement. "Everything can't be fun and games, Jack, there's consequences to our actions!"  
  
"And there's consequences to inaction!"  
  
"You will not kiss me again," she said as sternly as she could.  
  
"You don't want that."  
  
"What have I told you about telling me what I want?"  
  
"Then why are you crying, Rowan? You're not angry with me, I know you're not!"  
  
"Get-!" Rowan started, before realizing she was shouting. She stopped, taking a few deep breaths before pointing to her window and speaking in softer tones. "Get out."  
  
"It's nighttime, Rowan, I can't just leave you here," Jack said, though he seemed taken aback by her demand.  
  
"The Sandman is here, I'll be fine, get out," she said again, still pointing to the window.  
  
"Rowan-"  
  
"Don't make me yell at you, Jack, I don't want to lie to my father again, get the hell out of here," she hissed.  
  
"You can't be serious," he said, his tone now angry.  
  
"I don't want you here," she lied. It was the greatest lie she's told since all of this started, and it stung the most. "Get.  _Out."_  
  
He narrowed his eyes at her and she blinked her tears back yet again. Without another word he approached her window and threw it open before darting outside, not bothering to close the window behind him. The wind shuffled her papers and other items in her room around, whipped her hair about her face, and stung the tears in her eyes and on her cheeks.  
  
Sinking to her knees, Rowan finally allowed herself to fully release the hacking sobs that had been threatening to escape. She wrapped her arms around herself as she cried, wanting nothing more than to have the headstrong winter spirit back with her, to have  _his_  arms securely around her.  
  
She had just done everything possible to reject a boy that made her heart race in the most magnificent way. A boy that made her laugh and smile when she needed it the most. A boy who inspired her, who cared about her at least as much as she cared about him.  
  
"It would hurt more later," she insisted to herself as she ran the back of her hand over her tear-filled eyes. "This was the right thing to do… this was the right thing to do."  
  
Then why did she feel so sick? Why couldn't she stop crying? Why did she want to climb to the windowsill and shout his name into the wind until he came back?  
  
She knew the reasons not to be with Jack outweighed the reasons  _to_  be with him. She knew that she shouldn't be with someone whose existence she had to constantly lie about. She shouldn't be with someone who couldn't grow up with her, experience the life that she wanted with her. She shouldn't be with someone from an entirely different world than her.  
  
And yet all she wanted was to figure out a good cover story for his existence. All she wanted was for him to come back so that she could apologize and pull him into her arms. All she wanted was to kiss him again.  
  
All she wanted was to be with him. But she just couldn't justify it.

* * *

  
  
When Jack approached the open door to North's workshop, he was startled to find Erato seated on his desk, giggling as North spoke to her, seated in his rolling chair. He hadn't expected any of the Muses to be around, not when there wasn't a meeting happening, not just to have a conversation with North.  
  
Erato was the first to notice Jack, looking up at him in surprise. Her sudden change in expression prompted North to turn in his seat to see what she was looking at.  
  
"I, um, I'll come back, I guess," Jack started, beginning to turn to walk away, unsure of where exactly he would go.  
  
"Jack, what are you doing here? It is past sunset in Massachusetts," North said, rising to his feet.  
  
"Well, Sanderson is there, I'm sure Rowan is fine," Erato said.  
  
"Yeah, she's just great," Jack said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. He hadn't been quite sure where to go when Rowan kicked him out of her parents' house, and before he knew it, he'd found himself at the pole. North was the only other person he knew that had dealt with a mortal woman in such a way, but Erato's presence threw everything in this hasty plan off.  
  
"What happened?" said North.  
  
"It's nothing, you're busy," he said, feeling slightly embarrassed now that one of the Muses, particularly the Muse of Love Poetry, happened to be hanging around when he decided to make an unannounced visit to the pole. He fully expected to be taunted, to receive a lecture for abandoning his post with the Mortal Muse. It was the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. The Muses in general were the last thing he wanted to deal with right now. So of  _course_  he'd find one here.  
  
However, taunting and lectures were not what he received. Erato instead responded in a way that surprised Jack in that it was downright  _decent._  
  
"Nonsense, I should be leaving anyway," Erato said, approaching Jack and giving him a slight nudge in North's direction. "You two talk, you obviously need it. I'll be in touch, Nicky."  
  
"Nicky?" Jack repeated, North turned red yet again.  
  
"Goodbye, Erato," the older man said. The Muse closed the door behind her and Jack sighed, looking anywhere but at North. North got up from his seat, approaching the door so that he could lock it and turned to Jack, brows raised.  
  
"What happened?" he asked again.  
  
"Girls are ridiculous and they don't make any sense at all, that's what happened," Jack mumbled. "And I'm an idiot to think that _that one_  was worth any of the trouble."  
  
"Sit down, Jack, start from beginning," North said, pulling over another chair for the boy before sitting down himself.  
  
"We went to Burgess today, I told her about Melpomene, I told her  _everything_. She told  _me_  things," Jack said, unable to disguise the hurt in his voice as he spoke. He winced, hearing his tone and paused, trying to compose himself again.  
  
He had told her about Melpomene. It was his most guarded of memories. The only reason any of the other Guardians even knew was because they got their information from the Muses. He hadn't told  _anyone_  about that until Rowan. A few hours ago he had felt a weight lifted from his shoulders after finally telling someone about this. But now? Now he wasn't so sure.  
  
"What about Melpomene?"  
  
Jack looked up at the man at last, blue eyes meeting. He was still terrified of what the man would think of him if he knew what had happened with that particular Muse. Rowan had insisted that the other Guardians wouldn't think any less of him, but her words did nothing to comfort him right now.  
  
Nothing about Rowan did anything to comfort him right now.  
  
"Don't make me say it," he said weakly.  
  
North didn't respond for a moment, but soon nodded understandingly.  
  
"We went walking," Jack continued, "And I held her hand. I was… I was going to  _kiss_  her and then Jamie and his friends interrupted. We spent some time there with them before I took her home and she wouldn't look at me, neither of us were talking."  
  
"Is that why you are here? Because she is not looking at you? She must feel quite bashful about what almost happened," North said, taking a cookie from the nearby tray before pushing it over toward Jack. The boy shook his head at the offer.  
  
"That's not it," Jack said. If only that were it, the fact that she wasn't looking him in the eye earlier seemed like such a non-issue compared to this. He was suddenly very grateful that Bunny was off harvesting stardust. If the pooka had been around to see this, well, he would certainly have something to say. He had told Jack from the beginning that "courting a mortal" was a terrible idea.  
  
Jack was certain, though, that Bunny hadn't anticipated it being a terrible idea because the mortal in question would decide that it was best for everyone to just outright reject Jack as thoroughly as she could possibly manage.  
  
"Go on, then."  
  
"I told her that we couldn't just ignore what happened and I… I touched her cheek and I heard her voice in my head, saying if I was going to kiss her, to just do it already. I think it was her powers acting up, but after I heard that, there wasn't any doubt left, so I did it, I kissed her. She kissed me back, but as soon as we stopped she started going on about how we shouldn't have done that and it was all a bad idea."  
  
"So you are getting mixed signals," North said, taking a bite of the cookie he'd retrieved from the tray.  
  
"All over the place. I told her I had feelings for her, that it didn't matter that she was mortal and that we should give it a shot. But then her  _dad_  walked in so she dragged me upstairs to talk there and started talking about how I was going to forget her and she was going to get old and die, and I don't know why everyone thinks that I don't know that she's going to die, North, I know very well that she's going to die, I just hate thinking about it because…"  
  
The fire in his voice had faded, he trailed off with a sigh, running a hand over his hair in frustration. Those terrible thoughts came flooding back to his mind. He couldn't protect her. He'd never be able to protect her. They'd chosen the wrong guard. How could he possibly think he'd be able to protect her?  
  
"Because it scares you," North said. Jack simply nodded.  
  
"I told her she was making things too complicated. She was crying, and I just don't know what to  _do_  when she cries, I hate it when she cries. She kept pointing out that I'm immortal and she isn't. She said she was falling for me and it was too complicated, that it would never work. I kissed her again and at first she was fine, she was kissing me back  _again_  but then she pushed me away. She told me not to kiss her again and I started arguing with her about it, I couldn't help it. We both know we like each other, we both want this, but she just won't take a chance on it."  
  
"Is that why you left?" North asked, finishing off his cookie and brushing crumbs from his beard.  
  
"No, she  _told_  me to leave," Jack said bitterly. "I don't know what else to do, North, I wasn't expecting  _any_  of this!"  
  
"She is scared," North said. "She is not ready to risk her heart on this, and you cannot force anything, Jack."  
  
"I know I can't, I'm just so  _mad_  at her right now," he mumbled. Why couldn't this be easy? Why couldn't they both just bite the bullet and go for it? He didn't want to look back in a century's time, still wondering what would have happened if they had gotten together.  
  
"Is what happens, you two  _will_  get mad at each other. Yelena and I once had an argument over a recipe that lasted  _a week_ ," North said, offering the boy a smile. "You two have always had your arguments, this is just the grandest one so far."  
  
"I just, I haven't even entertained the idea of being with anyone in centuries and now I can't entertain the idea of  _not_  being with her," Jack sighed. "And I'm afraid she isn't gong to change her mind about this."  
  
"She might not," North said as gently as he could manage. "But you gave it a shot. Is all you can do."  
  
"What about the fact that I'm supposed to be guarding her?" Jack said, his heart sinking at North's words. He knew the man was right, but he didn't want to think about losing this chance simply because she was scared.  
  
But what else could he possibly do to ease her mind?  
  
"Sandy can watch her tonight and tomorrow night. Give both of you some space. But you  _have_  to go back on Thursday for the new moon, Jack."  
  
"And if she still wants nothing to do with me?"  
  
"Then give her space. But still guard her. You need to keep her safe, Jack, we are counting on you."

* * *

  
  
"Can you feel that?" Pitch said, arm around Melpomene's shoulders as they watched the globe. Thought the lights were still strongly illuminated, save for a few dim regions that were likely being visited by Shadow People at the moment, Pitch seemed full of life, and quite pleased. "Rowan's fear is growing, Jack is terrified as well. Who would have thought that  _romance_  would be what scared them more than anything?"  
  
"It's so deliciously tragic," Melpomene sighed dreamily, a tone that was not often associated with her hoarse voice. "Her cautious nature is working to our benefit! We didn't have to do a thing!"  
  
"Their fear makes me stronger, and the fact that you played a hand in this tragedy, well, you're simply  _glowing_ , my dear," Pitch said, his tone downright full of  _glee._  Seeing the joy that radiated from the pair was entirely unsettling, and the dim moonbeams shrank away, not wanting to be too close. Even the few Nightmares that lingered seemed uncomfortable at their master's change in emotion.  
  
"You've grown taller even in the past  _hour_ , Pitch, and I do have a thing for tall men," Melpomene said, leaning against him as she slid her arm around his waist.  
  
"You have a thing for  _suffering_  men, Melpomene, and unfortunately, I am not certainly not suffering right now," he smiled.  
  
"All the same," she purred, taking a handful of the fabric of his robes, pulling him closer to her. "Let's celebrate, hm?"  
  
"Let's," he agreed, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her head upwards before pressing his lips to hers.

* * *

  
  
It was late when Erato found the Sawyer residence, and more importantly, Rowan's unlocked bedroom window. Erato wondered if perhaps Rowan had left it such a way out of a hope that Jack would return. A quick glance around the room was enough to confirm that he hadn't.  
  
Erato took a moment to brush snow off of her person, shivering slightly. She had made the detour on one of Sandy's dream clouds and had almost turned back several times due to the massive blizzard that Jack had conjured up. Whatever had happened, it had upset him immensely. Judging by the amount of tissues in the waste basket, it had upset Rowan just as much.  
  
"Poor girl, I wonder if Pitch and Mel leaving well enough alone would have made a difference… of if you two would have found your way to each other anyway," Erato whispered, watching the dream sand twirl above Rowan's slumbering head. Her closed eyes were swollen and still wet with tears.  
  
Erato had sort of hoped she would find the girl awake, to ask her what had happened. She doubted that Rowan would confide in her, though, considering that her only encounter with the Muses thus far hadn't gone very well. Still, Erato couldn't help being concerned. Rowan might not be a full Muse, but she was still technically part of the sisterhood.  
  
"How about I give you a  _fun_  dream?" Erato whispered, glancing out the window as thought she'd find Sandy watching her disapprovingly. There shouldn't technically be an issue with this, considering that Rowan was not a child and her dreams were fair game for the Muses.  
  
When she didn't find an angry Sandman ready to stop her, Erato returned her attention to the dream sand twisting above Rowan's head. She set one of her gloved hands to the side of Rowan's head, concentrating. After a moment, the dream sand turned a bright, beautiful pink, which then faded into a sultry, passionate red.  
  
"There, just try being sad after that," Erato smiled, removing her hand from Rowan's head and heading toward the window, where just outside the dream cloud was waiting for her.  
  
Naughty dreams were Erato's specialty.


	31. Dead-End Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case Erato was not enough of a warning at the end of the last chapter, this chapter will be slightly Not Safe For Work! Proceed with caution, those of you in a public setting.

_"I’m not really sure how much a testimony from me that you’re not a witch would help you. I’d go to your execution, though. I’d be like ‘Yeah, I knew her, she was nice before the devil took her.’”_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-One: Dead End Dreams**

* * *

  
  
It was summertime. How could it be summertime? When Rowan had gone to bed, there had been a harsh blizzard outside her window, complete with strong winds that shook her conscience, tugged at her heartstrings and plagued her mind with the boy that she had banished from her room. There had been twinkling Christmas lights, the heat had kicked into full gear, there was frost forming on the windows.  
  
And yet, it was summertime. She found herself outside on a beautiful, warm afternoon, in a village of some kind. Glancing down, she found that she was wearing an apron over a brown dress. She grabbed a handful of her skirt, finding that the brown dress covered even more layers. Judging by the difficulty she was having bending over, she concluded she had to be wearing a corset of some kind under the dress.  
  
The strand of hair that fell into her face was brown, the same brown she usually covered in burgundy dye. Quickly examining her wrists, she saw that her tattoo was gone, and assumed the others were as well.  
  
"I must be dreaming," Rowan said. How else had she suddenly turned up in what had to be the late seventeenth, perhaps early eighteenth, century? Children in similar colonial dress rushed by her, giggling through a game of tag.  
  
A pair of hands fell over Rowan's eyes and she heard a familiar laugh. "Guess who," came the voice from behind her and she couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips.  
  
"Jack, are you not mad at me anymore?" Rowan asked, removing his hands from her eyes, taking note that they weren't as cold as she expected. Turning around, she paused for a moment, taken by surprise.  
  
The boy was clearly Jack. He was the correct height, he had the same large ears, the same stupid smirk. But his skin did not feature the same tints of blue and purple that she was used to, but rather displayed warmer undertones. His eyes were not the frustrating shade of blue, but a warm, welcoming brown. They also didn't boast the dark circles and lines that always gave away his age. His hair had taken on a darker shade, just as his eyes had. The blue jacket she was used to was replaced with more era-appropriate attire, though he was still barefoot.  
  
"Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you, what did you do?" he asked, still smiling.  
  
"I mean, I kicked you out of my parents' house and-" Rowan began.  
  
"You didn't kick me out, I had to leave," Jack laughed before lowering his voice to a whisper. "If they knew I was hanging around that late at night with you, we'd both be spending a week with the Reverend praying for our sins."  
  
"… right, right," Rowan said. The fact that this was a dream was quickly escaping her. Yes, obviously Jack had crept into her parents' house the previous night to see her! He did this a lot, and it was always fine as long as no one else in the village found out about him sneaking around so late. Everyone would assume that they had done things an unmarried young couple shouldn't be doing! Not that they hadn't done other things, they certainly had, but they hadn't quite taken their sinning  _that_  far.  
  
Well, not yet anyway. Oh, it was certainly a good thing that the Reverend or anyone else hadn't found out about their late night meetings.  
  
"Come on, let's go," Jack said, taking her hand in his.  
  
"Where?" she asked.  
  
"Somewhere we can be alone, come on."  
  
"Jack, I have chores,  _you_  have chores-"  
  
"So we'll do them later, come on," he said, flashing her a winning smile that made her heart melt. It seemed that all he had to do was smile at her and she would believe anything he said. She was just thankful he had been kind with this power he had over her.  
  
"You're going to get us in trouble," she said, rushing with him as he began running away from the village, through the nearby trees.  
  
"You could use some trouble," he replied.  
  
"You're all the trouble I can handle. Slow down for a second, okay?" she said, pausing to lean against the nearby tree, gasping for air. "This stupid dress, I'm overheating."  
  
"So take it off," Jack said with a shrug.  
  
"Jack!" Rowan said in surprise, her cheeks turning red at his suggestion.  
  
"What? You're wearing fifty or so layers, taking  _one_  off won't damn you straight to hell," he laughed.  
  
Rowan considered this for a moment. It was true, she was wearing quite a lot, and honestly it wasn't helping her any as far as being able to rush through the forest with Jack went. It actually didn't help her any when it came to moving around  _in general_. Truthfully, she envied the fact that Jack was not weighed down with dresses and skirts and half-boned stays.  
  
"Fine, fine, but you have to help me with the buttons, I can't reach," she said, turning around so that her back was facing him, reaching behind her to untie her apron. She was met with silence, if only for a moment.  
  
"Now, me taking your dress off of you might damn  _me_  straight to hell," he said, though he began unfastening her buttons anyway.  
  
"Let's be honest for a moment, Jack, you were going to hell anyway," Rowan smiled.  
  
"Hey, I wasn't the one telling all the kids stories about witches."  
  
"I didn't know that was a sin! Not until the Reverend chewed me out for it…"  
  
"You're just lucky they're not putting you to trial for that," Jack chuckled.  
  
"You'd vouch for me, wouldn't you?"  
  
"I'm not really sure how much a testimony from  _me_  that you're not a witch would help you. I'd go to your execution, though. I'd be like 'Yeah, I knew her, she was nice before the devil took her.'"  
  
The pair laughed at the absurdity of the conversation, ignoring the fact that had anyone else in the village overheard, they certainly wouldn't think it was quite so funny. Jack took a step back, having unfastened each of the buttons. Rowan pulled at the dress, sliding it off before folding it and setting it gently with her apron.  
  
"You're like one of those Russian nesting dolls, you take a layer away and there's just  _another_  one," Jack said, shaking his head as he reached for the laces on the back of her stay, beginning to loosen them as best he could without completely unlacing it. He was going to have to help her put it back on later, after all.  
  
"I imagine they do that so it's harder for young ladies not to remain virgins," Rowan said. "If they consider sinning, they have the entire couple of  _days_  or so it takes to get their clothes off to consider otherwise."  
  
"How do we even continue to exist as a species if it takes this much effort to get a woman undressed?" Jack laughed.  
  
"I suppose that's one of the 'miracles' they're always talking about," Rowan said, breathing easier now that the stay had been significantly loosened, sliding it off, along with her petticoat. These items joined her already discarded clothing before she removed her buckled shoes and finally turned to face Jack again. It briefly crossed her mind the amount of trouble they'd be in if anyone else found out she was hiding out in the woods with him, dressed only in her under-dress and stockings.  
  
He took her hand again, pulling her along as he weaved through the trees toward  _something_. Probably that small lake again, no one seemed to venture there very often. Sure enough, the woods spit them out by the body of water and Jack finally slowed his mad dashing.  
  
"It's always so nice here," she commented, watching as the long grass shifted slightly in the breeze, the sun reflecting off the ripples in the water. Jack approached the edge and picked up a stone, tossing it across the water and watching as it skipped, twice.  
  
"Pathetic," Rowan laughed.  
  
"Think you can do better? I'm the one that taught  _you_  how to skip stones," Jack said, crossing his arms before him and watching as she approached and searched for an acceptable stone for skipping.  
  
"I  _know_  I can do better," she said, selecting her stone before standing upright again. Just as she was about to toss it, Jack leaned over, obscuring her vision as he planted a brief kiss on her lips. Taken by surprise, heart racing, Rowan dropped the stone into the water.  
  
"Now  _that_  was pathetic," he commented with a chuckle as he pulled away, gesturing to the ripples the stone had caused.  
  
"Well, if  _someone_  wouldn't cheat at these games," Rowan said, reaching over and shoving him in what was supposed to be a playful way. The slim boy lost his balance, however, and fell into the water with a splash. Rowan gasped, covering her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh, that wasn't supposed to happen!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, sure it wasn't," Jack said though he was smiling as he sat upright in the shallow water. He extended his hand to her. "Help me up?"  
  
"You're going to pull me in," Rowan said, shaking her head.  
  
"No really, I just need help getting back up."  
  
"I know you, Jack Overland, you're going to pull me in."  
  
"Would I trick you?"  
  
 _"Yes_ , you do so  _constantly."_  
  
"Come on, Rowan, just help me up,  _you're_  the one that shoved  _me_  in!"  
  
He flashed that smile at her again and she sighed, stepping closer and extending an arm so that she could take his hand in hers. To her surprise, he actually took her hand and pulled himself upright again, soaking wet.  
  
"See, I didn't pull you in," he said, stepping closer to her.  
  
"I suppose I've misjudged you," Rowan said.  
  
"Not really," Jack smirked with a slight shake of the head. Rowan barely had a chance to take on a confused expression before he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her legs, suddenly hoisting her over his shoulder.  
  
"Jack!" she cried in surprise. Before she knew what was happening, Jack had tossed her into the lake, arms flailing.  
  
"Oops!" Jack laughed as she pulled herself upright, wiping water from her face and sputtering slightly.  
  
"Why am I even friends with you?" Rowan groaned, pushing away wet strands of hair that had fallen from her pins and into her face.  
  
"Because you've had a crush on me since always," Jack shrugged, treading through the water to where she was still trying to stay standing.  
  
"Oh come on, you used to pull my hair at every given opportunity because you didn't know how to deal with your crush on _me_ ," Rowan said, sticking her tongue out at the boy defiantly, splashing him as he ventured too close. He leaned over, swiping his hand against the surface in order to splash her in return.  
  
"Maybe I just like pulling hair," he leaned over and muttered into her ear suggestively, causing her eyes to go wide as she blushed.  
  
 _"Jack,"_  she said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're awful."  
  
"Old news," he laughed. "Come on, let's get out of the water."  
  
The pair trudged through the lake and back to the grass, Rowan grabbing for the hem of her dress and attempting to ring it out as they went. Jack plopped down in the grass and she sat beside him, still trying to ring out her clothes, now clinging to her skin and showing a bit more than was socially acceptable.  
  
"Well, now we have to dry off before we go back or there will certainly be questions," Rowan said.  
  
"Oh no, stuck here alone together, what on earth will we do?" Jack said sarcastically. Rowan smiled, leaning over to gently press her lips to his in a short, but sweet kiss. When they broke away Jack smiled wickedly at her before setting his hand to her shoulders and pressing her back against the grass. He leaned over her, water dripping from his unruly hair to her forehead. Her skin erupted in goose bumps as he reached to gently brush the drops of water away.  
  
"Looks like you've got something in mind," she whispered as he rested his forehead against hers. She tried to ignore the pain of the pins in her hair, pressed against the back of her head now that she was in this position. She moved her hand to finger the stitching on his vest, which he seemed to be very against ever buttoning.  
  
"I might," he mumbled. She could feel his breath against her, taunting.  
  
His lips finally reached hers and she closed her eyes contently, heart racing as his lips moved slowly with hers. It was a nice change of pace from the quick kiss he'd used to distract her earlier. He softly bit at her bottom lip and she groaned, slipping her hands up his chest and around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.  
  
They broke away briefly for a gasping breath before Jack began teasing her lips with his tongue until they parted to grant entrance.  
  
As she grew ever more distracted by what Jack's tongue was doing (and the pins digging into the back of her skull), his hand crept beneath her skirt, sliding up her thigh until his fingers found the top of her stocking. Slowly, as though wondering if she'd stop him, he began sliding it down her leg. He pulled away from her lips only briefly to fully remove the stocking before reaching to do the same thing with the other one, this time far more hastily once it became clear that she wasn't about to scold him for undressing her  _further_ than he already had earlier.  
  
It would be a lie to say that it didn't make her nervous. Even just being around him with her under dress clinging and see-through was nerve-wracking, but she couldn't think of any convincing reasons to stop.  
  
She wanted this, she wanted  _him,_  all of him.  
  
She sat upright, giving her scalp a break from the hair pins and pulled at his vest, which he slid off his shoulders without question before pulling off his soaked shirt as well. His torso was slim and toned, and water continued to drip from his hair, rolling down his chest. He set a hand to her shoulder again as though ready to push her back against the grass once more, but she pulled his hand away.  
  
Instead, she chose to climb onto his lap, straddling him as she crashed her lips into his again.  
  
She ran her hands over his hair, gripping at the dark strands while he grabbed at her collar. He pulled it down past her shoulder; his mouth wandering from her lips and along her jaw line. He was soon sloppily kissing down the side of her neck, her fingers still in his hair.  
  
"Jack!" she groaned in delight as he bit at her collarbone, leaving him chuckling at the sudden outburst. This continued for a time, with Jack nipping at her skin until she was certain he was going to leave marks. How was she supposed to explain those to her mother? It simply wasn't fair that she was going to have to be the one lying again.  
  
And so she leaned away. "Jack, keeping our sinning a secret is awfully hard when you leave advertisements for it all over my neck," she sighed.  
  
"What are you going to do about it?" he smirked as she ran her fingers down his throat, tracing it gently before leaning in again. As she began to tease the side of  _his_ neck, he haphazardly pulled the pins from her hair, leaving the soaked locks to fall against her skin.  
  
He groaned as she bit at his ear, bringing a smile to her face. Before she had an opportunity to continue, Jack gently tugged at her hair, pulling her head back.  
  
"I thought the hair pulling thing was a joke," she muttered.  
  
"Understandable conclusion considering who said it," he laughed before setting his lips to hers again. Would kissing him ever get old?  
  
"Jack-!" she whispered between kisses.  
  
"Rowan," he mumbled in return, toying with the hem of her skirt. His tongue was like him, quick and taunting. The friction was exhilarating; the kiss was electric. Chills ran up her spine as he traced the edge of her hip with his thumb, having lifted her skirt enough to reach the skin there.  
  
Then there was a buzzing sound that left Rowan furrowing her brows in confusion as Jack started down her neck again. There it was again. What was that sound?  
  
"Jack?"  
  
When Rowan opened her eyes, it was winter.  
  
"Jack?" she whispered again, voice hoarse.  
  
The loud buzzing came from her phone on her desk, lighting up as it vibrated to indicate that she was currently receiving _several_  text messages. She was inclined to assume they were from her mother, asking her to complete some tasks for the day.  
  
It was mid-morning. It was winter. The cell phone was a painful indication that it was the year 2012. Somewhere along the line she had forgotten she was dreaming, after all, the dream had filled in back story and had done everything it could to convince her of what was happening.  
  
She was breathing heavily, sweating as she sat, shaking, upright. She glanced down at her left wrist, finding that her tattoo was there. After a quick scan around the room, it was clear that she had woken up the same way she went to sleep: alone. Jack hadn't returned, and who could blame him? Still, Rowan swore, disappointed, beneath her breath, heart still pounding from the dream.  
  
Her knees were shaking as she pulled herself to her feet, walking to her window and pulling it open, hoping that the cold air would bring her out of the haze, would make her stop thinking of Jack Overland without his shirt or the magnificent way he bit at her skin. This was a terrible idea from the get-go, however, as the chills made her only think of Jack Frost. She was quickly imagining what his cold mouth might feel like against her neck.  
  
She whimpered in protest against these thoughts, swiftly closing her window as she found that it wasn't helping her in the least.  
  
Her very core was still warm, her heart was still pounding, she still had shaking hands and goose bumps. The fact was that the dream had ended far too soon and her body was crying for Jack's touch. Her lips yearned for his.  
  
She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this. Had she  _ever_  felt like this? Mind clouded with lusty thoughts and body begging for one boy in particular? The simple idea of Jack Frost left her more flustered than any human boy ever had.  
  
Luke, well, he was the first boy she'd been with. It had been awkward in every way possible, her mind clouded at the time with thoughts of just how  _dreamy_  he was. Danny had been a safer, more logical option. Being with him was awkward largely because  _he_  was awkward.  
  
She'd had dreamy, she'd had safe, and now all she wanted was  _fun._  
  
More regret filled her being as she realized, yet again, that Jack was gone. Gone because  _she_  told him to leave.  
  
She swore again, pulling at her sweat-soaked hair in frustration. She ignored her phone as it buzzed again, stumbling to her bedroom door and pulling it open.  
  
"I need to take the  _longest_  shower," she mumbled, walking down the hall to the bathroom.

* * *

  
  
"Shouldn't you be at the palace? I thought the Muses were meeting up with you early," Jack asked Tooth, who had found him brooding on a high tree branch, not far from his cabin. She settled down beside him, shooing away a few mini fairies that had tagged along, although Baby Tooth defiantly landed on Jack's shoulder. He offered the small fairy an equally small smile.  
  
"They are, Erato said that you and Rowan had a fight, Calliope said that Sandy told her he'd be looking after Rowan on his own until the new moon. I figured I'd check on you," Tooth said.  
  
"Well, as you can see, I'm in one piece. I'm fine," Jack said, the last part clearly a lie. He'd tried to get some sleep the previous night but all he could think about was his and Rowan's argument and just how  _stupid_  it all was. Every time he thought he was about to calm down, he became angry again.  
  
As morning finally broke, Jack found that the anger had significantly calmed and he was simply left with a nauseating feeling of disappointment. He kept wondering what he could have possibly done to make things end differently. Perhaps he shouldn't have kissed Rowan at all.  
  
"Jack, some people are taking the blizzards you've made as proof of the impending apocalypse," Tooth said gently. Baby Tooth nodded quickly.  
  
"So I let the snow get out of hand," he shrugged.  
  
"What happened?  
  
"The Muses didn't fill you in on  _that?"_  
  
"They don't know. All they found out was that you two had a disagreement."  
  
"Rowan and I have feelings for each other but she is way too afraid to have a relationship with me, so after I kissed her, we had an argument, she kicked me out," Jack said, feeling exhausted as he found himself explaining the situation again, even in the briefest of terms.  
  
Tooth went quiet, brow furrowed, Baby Tooth fluttered down to Jack's knee in order to look up at his face better in concern. Tooth gently placed her hand on his shoulder where Baby Tooth had been moments before. "Oh, Jack, I thought you weren't going to pursue anything with her?"  
  
"That would have been the smart thing to do," he sighed. "If Bunny finds out about this, I'm never gonna hear the end of it."  
  
"Bunny will probably just be glad you were rejected before she had a chance to die and hurt you more, actually," Tooth said. She winced, realizing what she said. "In the most loving way possible, that is, he'll be glad… about your rejection…"  
  
"Great," Jack sighed.  
  
"Did she say why?"  
  
"Why else? I'm immortal, she's mortal, we're gonna grow apart, she's gonna die, everything everyone else has already told me."  
  
"Maybe you should keep an eye out for all the eligible  _immortal_  girls out there," Tooth suggested. "It would be easier."  
  
"When have you ever known me to take the easy route on  _anything_?"  
  
"I just don't want you to spend all your time dwelling on it, you've only known her a few weeks."  
  
"It feels like it's been a lifetime," he muttered.  
  
"She isn't the only girl there is, Jack."  
  
"I am well aware."  
  
" _I_  am a girl, Jack."  
  
All thoughts came to a screeching halt. "Wait,  _what?"_  
  
Tooth's eyes were wide, her hands covering her mouth. Baby tooth winced. "I, uh, didn't say that."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me you have a crush on me? Because I figured you just had a thing for my teeth," Jack said, feeling exceptionally awkward as he watched Tooth for a response. He certainly did not expect  _this_  to happen when the fairy arrived.  
  
"Your teeth are  _very_  nice," Tooth stuttered. "They're some of my favorite teeth."  
  
"You didn't answer my question," Jack said.  
  
"This is terrible timing," Tooth groaned.  
  
"It absolutely is but you pretty much have to answer now," he said.  
  
"Yes, I have feelings for you," she sighed. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't be. Of all the things Jack needed right now? Not this, not at all.  
  
"Okay, well, this is awkward," Jack said, shifting so that he could better face Tooth. Was he really about to reject someone less than twenty-four hours after he, himself, was rejected?  
  
Yeah, he was.  
  
"Tooth, I love you, I really do," he said.  
  
"But not in a romantic way," she said, avoiding eye contact.  
  
"I think of you like a sister, I'd do anything for you," he said. "I'm really sorry."  
  
"Don't be, you're being honest, I shouldn't have said anything anyway," Tooth said.  
  
"I just feel bad, I was just fantastically rejected and now I have to do the same to you," Jack said. "Though, neither of us is crying and there isn't any yelling yet so I guess this is going better than the situation with Rowan did."  
  
Tooth winced at the description; Baby Tooth simply glanced uncomfortably between Jack and Tooth.  
  
"Don't worry about it, I knew your feelings for me weren't anything like your feelings for her, it was obvious. I just kind of started talking without thinking. At least we cleared the air, right?"  
  
"I really  _am_  sorry."  
  
"Like I said, don't be," Tooth said, smiling sincerely back at him. "Besides, now I can stop dwelling on it. Honestly, I feel worse for you… you actually had a chance."  
  
"Don't remind me," Jack sighed. That was one thing about Tooth's hasty confession, it had certainly distracted him from his angst over Rowan for at least a short moment.  
  
"It's going to be okay, Jack, really. Rowan will come around," she said.  
  
"And if she doesn't?"  
  
"We're all here for you. I'd do anything for  _you,_  too. You're one of my best friends."  
  
"Ditto," he said, finally managing a sincere smile. "Is there anything you  _don't_  handle with grace, Tooth?"  
  
"I don't feel like I was very graceful when Pitch took my fairies," Tooth laughed nervously.  
  
"What are you talking about? That punch in the jaw was the epitome of grace," Jack said, laughing as well.  
  
Tooth wrapped her arms around Jack's shoulders, pulling him into a warm hug. "I love you, Jack, you're going to be just fine."  
  
"I love you too, Tooth," he replied.  
  
"And don't worry," she said, pulling away from the hug, a hand still on each of his shoulders. "I won't tell the Muses any of this."  
  
"Oh thank  _God_ ," Jack winced. Tooth laughed.  
  
"Well, besides it not being any of their business, if I tell them that you told me you don't have romantic feelings for me, they're going to try to set me up with Cupid even more than they already are."  
  
"You and Cupid, hm? He  _is_  dreamy," Jack said with a short nod.  
  
" _Jack."_  
  
"What?  _I_  don't want to date him either," he laughed.  
  
"I haven't seen him in centuries."  
  
"Maybe his adult teeth finally came in."  
  
" _Jack."_  
  
"I'm sorry, he only ages a year every century, it's too easy."  
  
Tooth rolled her eyes, though she was still smiling. "So what do you have planned for the day, Jack? Maybe focusing on something will help ease your mind."  
  
"I was actually thinking of visiting North again," Jack said. "I might have an idea for that small amount of stardust he's got."

* * *

  
  
Rowan's cell phone buzzed beside her on the couch. She was sitting in the living room with her parents, both of which were discussing their days at work now that the show they had been watching had gone to commercial. Reaching for the device, Rowan glanced at her new message. It was from Shirley, and was asking if there were any new developments between Rowan and Jack. Rowan sighed.  
  
Of course Shirley would ask after she and Jack just had a fight. Why wouldn't she?  
  
How long could she keep talking to Shirley about Jack as though he were a normal, nothing special, human boy? This was why she couldn't pursue anything with him, she reminded herself, texting back, "it's complicated."  
  
" _How?"_  was Shirley's prompt message back.  
  
After making sure her parents were entirely occupied with their conversation, Rowan stood from her spot on the couch, creeping out of the room as she typed a response to her friend. "He wants to start something. I told him no," she mumbled to herself as she typed.  
  
As soon as she reached the top of the stairs, her phone buzzed again, and with a few swipes, Rowan found Shirley's reply. _"WHAT?! I thought you had a thing for him though?"_  
  
Rowan bit her lip, typing back again. "I just know it's not going to last."  
  
 _"Since when are you psychic?"_  came another exceptionally fast response. Rowan didn't know what to say to that. Soon enough, another message followed:  _"Do you like him or not?"_  
  
"I like him a lot," Rowan admitted, sitting down on her bed, glancing toward her window. Night had fallen at least two hours earlier. Jack clearly wasn't coming by tonight either.  
  
Who could blame him?  
  
 _"So what's the problem?"_  
  
"I'm scared. And now I'm afraid I ruined everything by telling him no. I haven't heard from him since."  
  
 _"So do you wish you hadn't told him no?"_  
  
Rowan paused, staring at her phone for a moment. "I've regretted it ever since. But I keep telling myself it was the right thing to do."  
  
 _"If you're this torn up about it, maybe it wasn't."_  
  
Rowan frowned, lying back on her bed as she considered this text for a moment. She was sick with regret. She had spent every single moment since he left wanting him to come back. She missed talking to him. She'd become so used to his company that she felt an exceptional loneliness now that he was gone. There was an empty space in her life now. That dream she had didn't help matters at all.  
  
A month ago she had no idea that Jack Frost was a living, breathing entity.  
  
At that moment she hated the idea of a life without him.  
  
Rowan's phone buzzed again with another message.  _"Ro, do you think you'll regret being with him more than you regret not being with him right now?"_  
  
"What if it's too late?"  
  
" _You've got to at least try. What was it that Roosevelt said? 'It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.'"_  
  
"Quoting presidents now?"  
  
" _Adam got a book of quotes and won't shut up. The point still stands."_  
  
How many times had Jack gotten on her case for being too cautious to live her life? Maybe she would have to keep lying. Maybe this would be harder than every other relationship she'd had. But maybe Jack would be worth that.  
  
"I'll try talking to him again," Rowan typed. If the boy ever spoke to her again, that is.


	32. Tonight, Tonight

_"Please don’t call the cops, please don’t call the cops," Rowan mumbled. How was she supposed to explain any of this?_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Tonight, Tonight**

* * *

  
  
"Maybe I'll conveniently come down with the stomach flu before this meeting," Bill thought aloud as he filled his travel mug with the remaining coffee in the coffee pot. Rowan shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and hoping that she didn't look quite as depressed as she felt. Another night without Jack had passed and she was beginning to worry she wouldn't see the boy again.  
  
"You've already tried to get out of this meeting in every possible way, they'll know you're faking. We don't need you getting fired, we've got a daughter in college," Dot said. Rowan sighed dramatically when she approached the coffee pot and found it empty. No Jack, no coffee.  
  
Her life was truly tragic.  
  
"Why did it have to be today? At  _that time?"_  Bill groaned as Rowan began fiddling with the coffee maker so that it would make another pot. The lack of coffee was a problem she could easily fix if she could figure out the fancy coffee maker that her father insisted on purchasing for her mother the previous year.  
  
"There will be other signings, you can sit out attending  _one_  geeky event in your life. Now, go, you're going to be late," Dot said, leaning in to give Bill a quick peck on the lips.  
  
"Never work for an office, Rowan," Bill mumbled before pulling on his coat and taking his coffee and briefcase.  
  
"Do they drink all the coffee there too?" Rowan yawned.  
  
"Yes, but that's not the point I was making at all," Bill said, reaching over to ruffle Rowan's already disheveled hair. After bidding his wife and daughter farewell, Bill disappeared to the garage where his car resided.  
  
"All right, Rowan," Dot said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a trade paperback graphic novel. She handed the tired girl the book and Rowan stared at her mother in confusion.  
  
"What's this for?" Rowan said.  
  
"The signing," Dot said. Rowan continued to watch the woman, confused. "That your father and I were just talking about?"  
  
"Oh, I wasn't listening, the fact that Dad took the rest of the coffee was really distracting," Rowan said, gesturing to the coffee pot, still empty.  
  
Dot sighed. "Remember when I called you last month to tell you that your father's favorite comic author was coming to town? But that he had to attend the annual budget meeting and couldn't go to the signing? And you volunteered to go wait in line and get something signed for him as his Christmas gift?"  
  
Rowan's eyes widened. "That's  _tonight?"_  
  
"Yes. Now, the signing starts at three, you might want to try to get there early, I think people are already lined up."  
  
"I can't do this tonight," Rowan said, suddenly wide awake.  
  
"Why? Do you have other plans?" Dot asked, crossing her arms before her chest and eying Rowan critically. Rowan bit her lip. What was she supposed to say?  _Sorry, Mom, but Santa Claus said that I can't go out after dark during the new moon because Shadow People are trying to eat my soul. You know, like the Dementors from Harry Potter._  
  
"Rowan?" Dot said.  
  
"Never mind, I'll do it," Rowan said. She should be able to get in and out of the bookstore before sunset, right?  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing," Rowan lied, glancing down at the cover of the trade paperback in her hands.  
  
"I would do it, but I'm working late today, too, and you said that you would," Dot said. Rowan winced, feeling guilt tug at her heart. Why were mothers so excellent at making their children feel like they had just been caught killing a man? "It would make your dad very happy."  
  
 _"I'll do it,"_  Rowan said. She already felt guilty enough about lying to them constantly, why did Dot have to make it worse?  
  
"Why weren't you going to, though?" Dot asked.  
  
"It's… the new moon," Rowan said lamely.  
  
"So? There shouldn't be any teen wolves running around," Dot shrugged.  
  
"I just have a bad feeling about tonight," Rowan winced, knowing it sounded completely crazy.  
  
"Have you been talking to your grandmother? Rowan, I promise that the moon doesn't decide  _anything,_  okay? It's just a big rock out in space. You're gonna be fine," Dot said. Rowan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If only Dorothy Sawyer knew just how much the moon  _did_  decide. If only she knew how much of a bad idea it was for her to be outside the house tonight when it would not be present.  
  
"All right," Rowan said.  
  
"Good. I left you a twenty by the cookie jar, order a pizza or something after you get the book signed, your dad and I are both going to be home late tonight. Be careful in that snow out there, Mother Nature must be angry," Dot said, pecking the side of Rowan's head before pulling her own coat on.  
  
Rowan bit her tongue to keep from telling her mother that it was not Mother Nature that was upset.  
  
"Thanks for the cash," Rowan said.  
  
"You're welcome. I'll see you later tonight, sweetie," Dot said.  
  
 _Hopefully._  "See you," Rowan replied as Dot left to the garage to retrieve her own car. Rowan swore as soon as she was sure Dot was out of earshot.  
  
"How the hell am I going to do this?" she groaned, approaching the hall closet and rummaging around until she found a flashlight. Sliding the switch, she found that the batters were still functioning. She sighed, turning her only weapon around in her hands.  
  
"Yeah, a flashlight versus magical creatures trying to kill me. That'll  _totally_  work."

* * *

  
  
"What happened?" Erato asked the moment Tooth returned to the palace, taking the fairy by surprise.  
  
"What do you mean?" Tooth asked. The seven Muses that  _hadn't_  gone off to harvest stardust with Bunny had made themselves comfortable at the palace, scattered about the main platform. It was finally the new moon, and the women truthfully looked exhausted from all their travels.  
  
"Something happened. There has been a development in your love life, what happened?" Erato asked.  
  
"Maybe  _she_  just had a naughty dream too, Erato," Calliope commented, narrowing her eyes at the blonde as she walked over to stand beside her.  
  
"I already said I would apologize to Sandy for messing with Rowan's dream. Even though I  _shouldn't have to_  since she's not a child," Erato said with a roll of the eye.  
  
"You gave the Mortal Muse a sex dream? About who? Jack?" Thalia asked, hanging upside down by her knees from one of the architectural designs aligning the platform. Several mini fairies fluttered around her, flying upside down in amusement.  
  
"Was he any good?" Terpsichore laughed. She was seated on the platform, stretching, not far from where Erato and Calliope stood.  
  
"I don't know, I didn't experience the dream," Erato said. "Although someone who  _would_  know-"  
  
"Shut it," Melpomene said lazily from her spot near the edge of one of the platforms directly above them, seated with her legs dangling over the side.  
  
"Does Pitch know that you two were a thing? Doesn't he hate Jack?" Euterpe asked, seated cross-legged beside Terpsichore.  
  
"Yes and yes, I believe we were talking about Tooth," Melpomene said.  
  
"Tooth does not have to tell us anything," Polyhymnia said, walking over and gently placing her hand to the fairy's shoulder.  
  
"You're no fun, you know that, Poly?" Thalia said.  
  
"That's why we have you, 'Lia."  
  
"Come on, Tooth, what happened? You look kind of disappointed," Erato said.  
  
"Or she looks uncomfortable because we all keep bombarding her," Polyhymnia said. "Honestly, sisters. Tooth lets us into her home to protect us and you repay her with  _gossip_."  
  
"Have you  _met_  us?" Euterpe laughed.  
  
"Poly  _is_  right-" Calliope started.  
  
"Oh come on, you want to know too," Melpomene interrupted.  
  
"It's okay, Poly, I really am used to this," Tooth said, forcing a smile for the taller Muse, who continued watching the fairy with concern. "As far as what happened, it's no big deal, really."  
  
"That means it's a big deal, what happened?" Erato asked again.  
  
"You went to go see Jack yesterday and then ran off to collect teeth without another word today," Calliope said. "What did he do? If he hurt you, Tooth, I'll take care of it. Between him  _abandoning_  the Mortal Muse and this, I want to give that good-for-nothing spirit a piece of my mind."  
  
"He didn't abandon her, they had a fight, he's going back tonight for the new moon, she's fine," Tooth said, setting her hands on Calliope's shoulder as though to tell the oldest Muse to calm the hell down.  
  
"Well, what did he do to  _you?"_  
  
"It's fine, really," Tooth said.  
  
"You didn't tell him you like him, did you? Because this is the  _worst_  time to do that. Unless you  _want_  to be a rebound girl but I don't think you do," Erato said. Tooth's eyes widened. "Oh my god, you  _did."_  
  
"He rejected you, didn't he?" Melpomene asked, smile fixed on her face. Tooth couldn't help but glare at the Muse in question.  
  
"I'll take that as a yes," Melpomene chuckled. "He's got  _so_  many issues, Tooth, don't worry about it."  
  
"Are you okay? Do we have to let Calliope go yell at him? Because she'll put him in his place," said Terpsichore.  
  
"She will, you should've seen the state she left my ex in," Thalia said.  
  
"She had it coming," Calliope mumbled.  
  
"I'm  _fine,_  there's no need to avenge my honor or something, don't worry about it," Tooth said.  
  
"Maybe this was meant to happen, Tooth, maybe it was written in the stars or something, now you can move on," Erato said with a reassuring smile.  
  
"Urania would know for sure, you never realize how useful she is until she decides to go on one of her space vacations," Euterpe said.  
  
"Oh, that reminds me, North suggested we have someone else take over as messenger until she comes back," Erato said.  
  
"I want to do it!" Thalia said, finally dropping herself down from her hanging position, landing gracefully on her feet like a cat. "I'd be an excellent messenger, I'd deliver the messages in rhyme!"  
  
 _"That_  doesn't sound like it would be annoying  _at all,"_  Melpomene commented sarcastically.  
  
"Fine, fine, Thalia can deliver any messages we might have until Urania returns," Calliope said, rubbing the side of her head as though she could feel a headache coming.  
  
"Are you regretting letting us stay with you yet?" Erato asked Tooth in hushed tones, smile pulling at her lips. Tooth simply laughed. The Muses were an exhausting bunch, it was true. But she loved them that way.

* * *

  
  
It was a strange sight to see, the Nightmare King's lair illuminated with streams of golden dream sand, traveling from the deep abyss and up to the surface, where it would seek out children to give dreams. Near the globe, Pitch was seated on the floor, looking entirely unamused at his current predicament, bound by dream sand as the Sandman floated nearby, watching the man suspiciously.  
  
"Was binding me  _truly_  necessary?" Pitch asked. Sandy, of course, didn't respond, but rather continued glaring at the man, arms crossed. "I'm not about to  _try_  anything, I'm  _weak_ , remember?"  
  
Sandy remained unconvinced; Pitch remained bound. Sandy glanced back at the globe, watching as a great deal of lights dimmed significantly with a frown. The Shadow People were clearly taking advantage of the new moon. Pitch wondered if Sandy would be sending extra dream creatures in those regions tonight, or if any recovery would be postponed until he was no longer babysitting him.  
  
"You make fascinating choices when it comes to sculpting your dream sand, I'll admit that," Pitch said. Sandy turned back to Pitch, cocking a brow.  
  
"The whips, the ropes," Pitch said, casually glancing down at the dream sand ropes wrapped snug around his chest and wrists. "Were any of these inspired by dear Calliope?"  
  
Sandy's eyes narrowed, clearly unamused.  
  
"Do you not want me to talk about her?"  
  
Sandy shook his head.  
  
"Oh well, that's too bad. Honestly, the two of you don't really make any sense, I mean, besides the  _biology_  of the situation, you'd think she'd go for someone, well,  _taller._ "  
  
Sandy approached Pitch, dream sand whips beginning to form in each of his small hands.  
  
"But the thought's crossed your mind, hasn't it? That there are men better suited for her affections, that she's simply  _used_  to you. It's not a thought that plagues you often, I'll give you that, but when you two are away from each other for extended periods of time, well, you begin to wonder, don't you?"  
  
Sandy pulled his wrist back, having every intention of making Pitch stop talking by force and Pitch simply laughed. "Don't forget the terms of our deal, Little Man,  _you can't bring harm to me, either."_  
  
The whips disappeared and Sandy scowled as Pitch continued to chuckle. Gathering some dream sand in his hand, Sandy took a deep breath before blowing the dream sand directly into Pitch's face. The laughter slowed and Pitch slumped over, visions of birds and flowers forming above his head as he silently slumbered.  
  
It certainly wasn't part of the deal that Sandy had to put up with Pitch while he was conscious. Turning back to the globe, Sandy frowned once more, watching as the darkness traveled ever closer to the east coast of the United States.

* * *

  
  
Jack took a deep breath as he approached the Sawyer residence, the sun setting and turning the sky orange and pink. He landed gingerly by Rowan's bedroom window and hesitantly glanced inside as he tapped on the glass. He found no sign of the girl inside and received no response.  
  
The thought crossed his mind that she could simply be avoiding him. After their fight, it wasn't all that far-fetched to assume. He knocked with more purpose this time and still received no response. He debated a moment over opening the window or not. The whole bases of their friendship had started with the condition that he respected her enough to knock before being allowed inside.  
  
But then, everything was different now, wasn't it? Were they even still friends?  
  
Sliding the window open, he leaned his head inside, not entirely entering the house quite yet. "Rowan?" he called. He waited. There was no response.  
  
"Rowan!" he called again. "I know we're in a weird place right now but the Sandman is busy so I need to be here. Rowan?"  
  
Again, no response.  
  
"Hey, Sawyer, stop being so dramatic and answer me!" he called. After another moment of hesitation, he climbed inside the room, growing darker as the minutes passed and the sun continued to set. The room was completely silent, completely still. As he pulled open the bedroom door, he found an equally silent hallway, which lead him to an equally still staircase. As he quickly scanned the area downstairs, it became painfully obvious that no one was home.  
  
He swore under his breath, darting back upstairs and to Rowan's room, climbing out the window again. Glancing down at the driveway, he found her car missing. Rowan wasn't here. The sun was setting. There was no moon that night.  
  
There were a number of problems that Jack feared running into upon his return to this house with that girl. All of these problems required the girl to  _actually be present_  and not out somewhere putting her life at risk. That was a whole different problem that he had not been expecting at all.  
  
Cursing again, Jack closed the window behind him before darting into the air, scanning the area for any dark movements that might lead him to Rowan. "Please don't be dead when I find you," he mumbled to himself, the last words he said to the girl echoing through his mind.

* * *

  
  
"Can you sign it 'To Bill'?" Rowan asked the middle aged, balding man that sat at the table she stood before. She had arrived hours before to find a line at the bookstore, and had watched, wincing, as the sun began sinking below the horizon just as she reached the part of the line actually inside the building.  
  
"You don't look much like a Bill," the man smiled, complying regardless.  
  
"It's for my dad, he wanted to come today but couldn't make it because of work," Rowan smiled.  
  
"And you waited in this stupid line for him? You're an excellent daughter," the man said, signing his name on the inside cover of the book with enthusiasm. Rowan took note of the discarded coffee cups nearby. There were at least four, and he was currently working on what must be the fifth. No wonder he was still going strong after so many hours of this signing.  
  
"You have no idea," Rowan said. Her father had better appreciate this gift, considering she was basically risking her soul to be out at this hour on this particular night.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Rowan," she said, taking the book now that it was signed. The man took a flyer advertising the signing and scribbled 'To Rowan' with his signature before handing it to her.  
  
"There, you deserve to take something back for waiting so long."  
  
"Thank you," she said, gently placing the flyer between the pages of the paperback. He held his hand out to her and she politely shook it before stepping away. As she was walking, she glanced back as she heard a sudden shuffling of papers. She found the man flipping one of the flyers over and madly scribbling on the back, muttering something about having just had an idea for his next series. Rowan pursed her lips, unsure how to feel about this, before turning back to the front of the store. She stopped short of the glass doors, sighing as she realized that it was very much after dark now.  
  
Why couldn't the Shadow People pursue her during the summer when the days were longer?  
  
She gently slid the paperback into her bag before fumbling around for her flashlight, which she held firmly in her hand, and then her taser, which she discreetly slipped into her pocket.  
  
"Scared of the dark?" someone entering the store commented, smirking at her flashlight in hand.  
  
"Of the things in it," she mumbled as they continued by. Glancing outside again, she swallowed nervously before carefully pushing the door open and stepping outside.  
  
The parking lot was quiet, and had been packed earlier, leaving her with little choice but to park at quite the distance from the front doors. It never seemed like a long walk before, but now? Now things were different.  
  
She paused in her place, turning on her flashlight and waiting for something to happen. Every shift in the wind made her jump. The lights in the parking lot were still on, uninterrupted.  
  
Feeling as though it was safe to continue, Rowan stepped away from the building, walking cautiously through the now mostly-empty parking lot towards her car. If she could make it to her car, she felt like she would be okay. The old jeep was bigger than she was, it was stronger and faster than she was, and it had fog lights.  
  
She scanned the ground in front of her with the flashlight as she walked, nervously fiddling with the keys on her lanyard. Nothing yet.  
  
Maybe they still hadn't found her. Maybe she had gotten lucky.  
  
As something darted out of the way of the beam of light coming from her flashlight, stopping her dead in her tracks, she realized she was very wrong. She turned her wrist so that the light would follow the shadow that had escaped it, and a few more followed suit. She noticed with a turning stomach that the darker corners of the parking lot seemed a dark, shadowy void now.  
  
She heard something faint, like whispers caught in the wind as the lights in the parking lot began to dim and flicker.  
  
 _"Where's your boy?"_  The voice seemed to come from inside her head. Glancing down, she found shadowy hands extending from the pavement and around her ankles. She quickly shined the light atop the shadow, which hastily shrank away. She noticed the light in her flashlight going dim, however. She swore, hitting the side of the flashlight with her palm in the hopes of bringing it back to life.  
  
 _"Isn't he worried about you, Mortal Muse? The boy with the magic staff?"_  
  
The voices were hoarse, overlapping whispers, echoing around in her mind alongside the sound of her heart pounding. The lights in the bookstore began to flicker before going dark. The far lights in the parking lot began to go out, a circle of darkness surrounding her and growing, suffocating and destroying lights as the darkness moved closer.  
  
Having little idea of what else to do, Rowan ran for her car, wincing as each light she passed went out.  
  
 _"How tragic, he's left you for dead."_  
  
Would the Guardians let her die like this? There was no sign of the Sandman's fantastic creatures, certainly no sign of Jack. The amount that she needed them right now made her want to cry. Why was she so useless? Why couldn't she do anything for herself but run?  
  
The fact that she was mortal was making things so difficult lately.  
  
 _"They never cared about you, they just needed you to win the game."_  
  
She hastily unlocked her car as she finally reached the jeep with the banged up bumper. She tossed her bag into the back seat and the flashlight in the center consol, but before she had a chance to settle into the driver's seat, her feet were pulled out from under her. She cried out as her head crash-landed against the jeep's running board and she was then pulled back against the pavement.  
  
The last of the lights in the parking lot went out as she reached for her car, her fingernails barely brushing against it as the shadows pulled her along.  
  
 _"It's like a game of chess, Mortal Muse. The King is the piece that must be protected; it is most valuable. But it can do nothing but hide behind the other pieces. Its only purpose is not to be captured."_  
  
She didn't want to die, not like this. She didn't want to die in a dark parking lot, dragged across the pavement and snow by shadows that taunted her. She needed to take that gift back for her father, she needed to talk to Jack, she needed to do so many things.  
  
She couldn't die, not tonight, not now, not like this. Try as she might, she couldn't get a grip on anything as they continued pulling at her ankles. She could feel them extending up her leg to get a better grip. She felt hopeless, sick.  
  
 _"Check mate."_  
  
Rowan rolled to her back, the shadow still pulling her along, and pulled her taser from her pocket. Sitting up and reaching forward, she flipped the switch to bring it to life. The light was not nearly as bright as she hoped it would be, but the Shadow People shrank away from the crackling device all the same.  
  
Scrambling to her feet, she ran back toward her car, barely making it a few paces before cold arms slid around her chest. She panicked as she was lifted from the ground, certain that they had gotten hold of her again.  
  
That was, until she realized that one of the hands was gripping a staff tightly.  
  
"Jack!" she said, suddenly realizing where his other hand rested. "Are you copping a feel right now?  _Seriously?"_  
  
"This is what you artistic types would call a 'happy accident'," he replied, setting her down beside her car, quickly turning around to face the oncoming shadows. Rowan found herself wedged between the boy and her car, heart still racing. She was torn between being thrilled that Jack had shown up and terrified that the Shadow People were still in pursuit.  
  
Swinging the staff around, Jack sent out that blinding, blue light toward the pursuing shadows, eliminating those in the light's path. Many took this as a sign to retreat, while others took the place of their defeated comrades, slinking forward.  
  
"Sandy's dream sand should still be around your parents' house, we need to get back there," Jack said, sending another burst of light forward, this time with the ice that usually came with this attack. Rowan slid into her car, the driver's side door still open, and with shaking hands slid the key into the ignition, turning the fog lights on immediately.  
  
"Drive!" Jack called, quickly climbing atop her car's roof as she pulled the door closed and shifted gears. She drove haphazardly through the lot, Jack consistently sending light into the darkness behind them. She turned sharply in order to avoid hitting a pedestrian, attempting to light their way through the parking lot with their cell phone and watching the scene unfold, mouth agape.  
  
"Please don't call the cops, please don't call the cops," Rowan mumbled. How was she supposed to explain any of this? The light materializing from nowhere above her car? The lights going out in the parking lot? Her hasty driving? The illegal taser she had in her possession?  
  
She really, really hoped that the security cameras hadn't picked anything up past maybe her falling over.  
  
She turned down one of the back streets, unwilling to have red lights and other cars interrupt their escape. She was certain her hands would be trembling if it weren't for the fact that she was gripping the steering wheel for dear life. Her knuckles were white, her palms stung from scraping the pavement, her car was making sounds of protest from not being properly warmed up before she sped away.  
  
Streetlights went out as they passed. How many Shadow People had come to Massachusetts? Had all of them? Why did this signing have to be at this bookstore and not at the much closer comic store?  
  
These thoughts, as well as her car, came to a screeching halt as she saw a great golden beast approaching them. It was a whale, a giant golden whale. It appeared to be modeled after a humpback whale, and was approximately the same size. Rowan was having difficulty simply wrapping her mind around this, hence her sudden stopping of her car in order to just sit and watch this mighty creature.  
  
The dream sand whale swam through the air, twisting by her car with a smile before pursuing the Shadow People. Turning around, Rowan found many of the shadows rushing away, while others weren't so lucky as to avoid blows from the whale's fins and tail.  
  
"Go!" Jack called, banging his staff against the roof of her car to draw her out of her state of awe. Swallowing, she turned back to the road in front of them before speeding away.


	33. No Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter than some of them have been, but I somehow think you guys will be okay with it. I struggled with it a bit, I always seem to with chapters like this, but hopefully I won't disappoint.

_"So, we’re in agreement. This is a terrible idea and we’re going to do it anyway."_

_"That could be the title of my autobiography, honestly."_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Three: No Regrets**

* * *

  
  
It seemed to take ages to reach her home, parking just within the dream sand barrier the Sandman had created and finally shutting her car off. With shaking hands, Rowan took her bag from the back seat before slipping out of her car.  
  
Jack climbed down from the roof of the jeep, following her as she reached the front door and fought her trembling hands to slide the key in the lock. Once inside, she flipped every switch on the nearby wall to turn on every light in the front room. She felt sick; her heart still would not slow. Would they have gotten away if the Sandman hadn't sent one of his pets to help?  
  
As she hung her coat and removed her boots, Jack closed and locked the front door behind him. She turned back to him, unsure what to say. She was still shaken from the experience. Rowan had wanted nothing but to have Jack return and now that he had, after everything that happened the past half hour, she had no idea what to say.  
  
This was fine, however, as Jack seemed eager to begin talking instead.  
  
"What the hell are you doing out after dark by yourself?" he demanded. "You  _know_  it's the new moon, we've been scrambling around to prepare for this, to  _protect you_  all week and yet here you are. What the hell were you thinking!?  _Do you have a death wish?"_  
  
His words stung. What a strange turn of events, Jack delivering a lecture to  _her._  She didn't like it, not one bit. It wasn't as if she hadn't considered everything he just said.  
  
"Yes, Jack,  _yes,_  I went out after dark hoping that the Shadow People would find me and kill me," Rowan hissed back sarcastically. "This was all entirely on purpose to undermine everything that you've done for me, you've caught me."  
  
Her hands began to steady themselves, but her heart would not slow.  
  
"I just don't understand why you would put yourself in this position!"  
  
"Because I promised my mother that I would get this stupid comic book signed for my dad for Christmas," Rowan said, pulling the signed trade paperback from her bag and holding it up in front of her. "So yeah, it was stupid. It was not worth risking my life, but I'm  _so tired_  of lying to them, and I don't want to start breaking my promises, too."  
  
She walked past him, stuffing the book back into her bag as she approached the staircase with uneasy legs so that she could go back to her room. Jack was quick to catch up to her, using his ability to fly to his advantage by heading her off at the top of the staircase.  
  
"You did all this to get your dad a Christmas gift?"  
  
"The  _best_  Christmas gift he's getting this year, if that helps at all," she sighed, walking around him and flipping the switch on the wall as she passed. She walked through her open bedroom door, which she had sworn she'd left closed earlier.  
  
"Rowan-" Jack started, entering the room behind her.  
  
"Look, I didn't run into the Shadow People on purpose! Thanks for saving my ass  _again_ , I appreciate it, and since you'll probably see the Sandman before I do, if you could pass on the message, that'd be great. But it's over now and lecturing me is not going to change anything," Rowan said defensively, setting her bag under her desk and beginning to unravel the small braids she'd set in her hair while she waited in line earlier.  
  
"Hey, until I found you still breathing in that parking lot I was scared that you'd be  _dead_ ," he said sternly. "And I don't want that fight we had to be the last thing we said to each other. So, I'm sorry for ' _lecturing you'_  but you scared the  _absolute hell out of me._  I'm not against you, I care about your goddamn well-being! And now, God,  _now_  you're making me sound like Bunny. I hope you're happy."  
  
He managed to break through her irritation with his own. He was worried about her, and she didn't know how to deal with that. She hated worrying  _anyone_ , and she could feel guilt pulling at hear heart once again as she remembered that regardless of what she said, she put herself in that situation knowing very well how it would play out.  
  
"I'm  _sorry,"_  she said, setting the small elastic bands down on the desk before turning to face him. "I just didn't know what else to do, I can't tell my parents  _any_  of what's going on."  
  
In fact, the only person she  _could_  talk to was Jack. He was the only one of that magical group that was consistently around. He was the only one she could call a friend. Well, at least before their fight the other night.  
  
"I know, and I know you've been lying a lot and honestly, you're not very good at it so I don't know how it keeps working, but _damn it Rowan, tonight?"_  
  
"I couldn't get out of it, there wasn't a lie I could come up with, I told my mom a  _month_  ago that I would do this- Oh, no,  _my parents._  They're still out there, what if something happens to one of them?"  
  
That was exactly what she didn't need, the Shadow People deciding her parents would be a great target after she managed to slip from their grasp yet again. Like she didn't feel guilty enough about this entire situation as it was.  
  
"Sandy's taking care of the Shadow People the best he can from Pitch's lair, it looks like he was trying to herd them out of the city, at least. Besides, they don't kill mortals, the only reason feeding on you would kill  _you_  is because they would be harvesting your power. A Muse of any kind can't continue to survive without it," Jack said. "So even if your parents  _do_ encounter them, they'll survive, I promise."  
  
"I don't want them to hear those terrible voices," Rowan sighed.  
  
"They  _talked_  to you?" Jack said, surprised. Rowan nodded. "They haven't done  _that_  before. Something else to ask Pitch about, I guess. Maybe it's because of the new moon."  
  
"Do you know why they ran away from my taser?"  
  
"My best guess is that they didn't know what it was and you spooked them. Or maybe tasers somehow  _do_  work on them and they know how uncomfortable it is," Jack said, lightly setting a hand to the area of his chest where Rowan had tased  _him_  just a few weeks ago.  
  
He didn't seem upset anymore, at least there was that. They fell into a tense sort of silence, both unsure how to continue. When they had been angry, when they had been in the middle of dealing with the Shadow People, they didn't have to acknowledge their fight from the other night. It was all she could think about now.  
  
"So, are you still mad at me?" Rowan asked, glancing up from his chest to his face. "I mean, this is the first you've been back."  
  
"Figured I'd give you some space," Jack said vaguely. "But I need to be here tonight because of the new moon. So, I know we're in a weird place right now but we're going to have to deal with it for the sake of your safety. I'm not gonna let you die."  
  
He hadn't answered her question. Was he still mad at her? Did it matter? He obviously still cared about her and her well-being. It was comforting, knowing that he didn't completely hate her after their last encounter. That he hadn't fallen into a place of indifference.  
  
"We need to talk about the other night," she said, nervously swallowing.  
  
"This should be fun," Jack sighed.  
  
Rowan hesitated. Apologies were strange things. There had to be sincerity behind it, or it wasn't worth the breath it took to say. Admitting she was wrong had never been very easy for her. The fact that she had made such a big deal out of kicking him out the other night just made taking it back that much harder.  
  
"I'm sorry," Rowan said at last.  
  
"What?" he said, surprised.  
  
"I'm sorry about everything," Rowan said. Was she really going to do this? That nagging voice in her head that said this was a terrible idea was still there. But she had been certain at one point that night that she was going to die, and could no longer justify playing it safe when it came to Jack.  
  
"I'm sorry about kicking you out," she said, forcing herself to keep eye contact. Why was looking him in the eye so difficult? It was as though those blue orbs could see straight through her. "I'm sorry I told you never to kiss me again, I'm sorry about all of it, okay? I'm terrified, I'm still so scared about how this could all turn out but… the past two days without you, I mean, I've never felt that lonely before."  
  
They fell into silence again, a puzzled expression crossing Jack's face. Rowan bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She wanted to tell him more but couldn't find the words.  
  
"So, you missed me," Jack said at last, nonchalantly propping his staff against the wall. Rowan managed to smile softly, remembering the way he would pick on her about enjoying his company when their friendship was just beginning. It was the first genuine smile to reach her face in days.  
  
"Yes," she said hesitantly. "Whenever you leave anymore, I miss you."  
  
Silence again. They had taunted each other numerous times before about their feelings, teasing each other about attraction and attachment. But now it wasn't a joke, now there were risks. They had gotten a taste of these risks the last time they had been together. Jack's area of expertise was fun, and Rowan was so overly cautious.  
  
And so, they watched each other in silence, each waiting on the other to be the first to speak again.  
  
"I, um," Jack said. "I miss you too. And I'm…  _so glad_  you're alive."  
  
Rowan's heart raced (as if it had ever slowed to begin with). She knew Jack had feelings for her but having him confirm it, even with these nervous statements, meant a great deal to her. It meant she could risk continuing, it gave her a reason to ignore the logical protests that still screamed so loudly in her mind.  
  
She took a few nervous steps toward him, now directly in front of him eyes, still locked.  
  
"Jack Frost," she said. "Your ears are too big, you're too skinny, you're a sickly shade of pale. Your eyebrows don't match your hair, and you've got the smuggest little smile I've ever seen. You have sent me on an emotional rollercoaster ever since you came into my life, you mythological son of a bitch. You're conceited, you rarely take anything seriously, and  _my God_ , you're stubborn."  
  
She paused. "And yet, I can't think of anything I don't like about you."  
  
"Oh yeah?" he replied, leaning in closer, that smug smirk putting at his lips. "Well, you, Rowan Sawyer, are one of the most challenging people I have ever met. You think too much, you're overly cautious, and you're headstrong to a fault. Your eyes are way too big for their own good, your eyebrows don't match  _your_  hair either, and you spend way too much time on your makeup. Not to mention you  _tased_  me when we first met. And yet the thought of not having you around scares me more than anything."  
  
Rowan could have told him that he deserved to be tased, considering he had broken into her apartment, but all she could manage was, "You're ridiculous," with a small smile, leaning her forehead against his now that he had come closer.  
  
 _"You're_  ridiculous," he said, hesitantly setting a hand to her hip as she rested her hand to the side of his neck.  
  
"I don't think I've ever argued with another person as much as I argue with you," she said softly.  
  
"In three centuries I haven't met someone who gets under my skin like you do."  
  
"Nothing about this should work."  
  
"Everything is against us, I think the stars might  _literally_  be crossed," Jack said with a slight roll of the eye.  
  
"I'm going to die at some point."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Okay," Rowan said after a short pause, nodding.  
  
"Okay."  
  
This was a terrible idea. The worst idea. They had both basically admitted this. Rowan found herself not caring in the least, however, as she rested her free hand against his shoulder.  
  
"I'm sick of being afraid," she said, fog forming as she spoke, so close to his lips.  
  
"Don't be," he said simply.  
  
And so, for once, she wasn't.  
  
Rowan closed her eyes and hastily pressed her lips to his, electricity pulsing through her being once more. Time stood still, nothing else mattered, not Shadow People, not the fact that they were still out there looking for her, nothing at all. Every romantic cliché in the book was true as she desperately moved her lips with his, his grip tightening on her has he pulled her closer against him, leaving her shivering.  
  
She could feel frost and ice beginning to coat her mouth and chin, always quick to melt away. Her lips were growing numb; she felt her teeth becoming cold as his tongue slid past her lips.  
  
This amount of cold should be incredibly uncomfortable. She loved every moment of it. The goose bumps, the shivering, it all just added another level of excitement and friction.  
  
Rowan slid her arms from their place, practically throwing them around Jack's neck. The thought briefly crossed her mind of how ridiculous it would look if anyone saw her now, hopelessly kissing no one at all.  
  
The amount that she wished the world could see how much Jack Frost was someone.  
  
They broke away, gasping for air, still clinging to each other. She didn't know why she held on to him so tightly, as if he'd be torn away from her. She was desperate, filled to the brim with a terrible need for him.  
  
The amount of power this boy had over her was terrifying.  
  
"I'm falling for you," she confessed, "You frustrating  _jerk."_  
  
"I'm falling for  _you_ , you stubborn bitch," he replied. Their lips met again, her heart pounding still. Her mind raced back to the dream she'd had the night he left, feeling herself blush as she thought of it.  
  
This was certainly a different sensation than she'd experienced in the dream. His cold touch was the most obvious difference, the situation they were in as well. Everything was so much more complicated, and the moment that she decided to indulge in her want, things were destined to become even  _more_  complicated. There were simply no other options.  
  
But the feelings remained the same. The way her heart raced, the way he touched her, the manner in which he bit at her lip. She couldn't remember ever being this excited to kiss someone. She couldn't remember ever having this much fun.  
  
The pair paid little mind to the sound of the garage door opening below them, Rowan now busying her hands with Jack's hair as he slid a hand under her sweater and over her hip. Frost designs branched out from his fingertips, twisting against her skin. The frost spread to her back and climbed slowly up her spine. She groaned into his lips, shivering.  
  
"Rowan?" came her mother's voice from the staircase suddenly. Rowan pulled her mouth away from Jack's, suddenly turning toward her still-open bedroom door, arms still around him. She turned back to Jack, mirroring his shocked expression before swearing under her breath and letting go of the boy who stepped away from her as well. She haphazardly adjusted the hem of her sweater before running a hand over her hair and wiping away the melting frost from her chin.  
  
"Rowan?" Dot said again, appearing in the doorway. Rowan had forgotten to turn her bedroom light on when she entered, their only source of light had been whatever had poured in through the hallway and the dream sand outside.  
  
"H-Hey Mom, I thought you were working late?" Rowan said breathlessly. She could hear Jack snickering behind her back. She slid a hand behind her, flashing him her middle finger, which only resulted in the boy laughing harder.  
  
"It's so dark in here," Dot said, flipping the light switch and stepping inside the room. "I was, but the power's out  _all over_  the east coast, I'm surprised we've still got any here. I didn't think the snow was  _that_  bad. We couldn't do much without electricity so we all went home."  
  
"Oh, do you think Dad will be home soon then?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Yes, I called him on my way back, he's on his way, then we'll figure out dinner since I doubt we can still order out unless any of those restaurants still have power," Dot said. She eyed Rowan suspiciously. "Why are you so out of breath?"  
  
"Pilates," Rowan said immediately. "Yeah, I was trying some of the Pilates I saw online, and I am  _not_  good at it."  
  
"You were doing Pilates in jeans… in the dark," Dot said skeptically.  
  
"I told you, I am not good at it," Rowan said, shaking her head.  
  
"Oh my  _God_ , seriously? Pilates?" Jack said, sitting down on her bed as he continued to laugh at her. Rowan had to struggle to keep a straight face.  
  
"We should sign up for a class or something," Dot said, still eying her daughter in confusion. "Did you get the book for your dad?"  
  
"I did!" Rowan said, approaching her desk and pulling the book out of her bag. She took the flyer that the author had signed for her out of the book, sliding it inside one of the desk drawers, before handing it to Dot. Dot opened the book to examine the signature and nodded in approval.  
  
"Very good, thank you so much for getting this for him, Rowan, he's going to be  _so_  happy," Dot said with a smile.  
  
"It was no problem," Rowan lied.  
  
"No problem at all, she just almost died getting it is all," Jack commented, his laughter finally having died down.  
  
"I'll wrap it and stash it with the other gifts," Dot said. She was about to turn and leave the room when she paused. "What's that?"  
  
Rowan turned to see what her mother was pointing at, finding Jack's staff, still propped against her bedroom wall. Jack, still sitting on Rowan's bed, winced.  
  
"Interesting looking stick I picked up?" Rowan said as more of a question than a statement. Evidently when Jack wasn't in contact with his staff, it was fully visible to non-believers.  
  
If only  _Jack_  was fully visible to non-believers.  
  
"Hmm," was all Dot said before turning back to her daughter. "Is something going on with you, Roo? You seem so nervous and you were talking about the moon earlier."  
  
"I'm fine, Mom, really," Rowan said.  
  
"I don't know if I believe you," Dot said simply.  
  
"Nothing's going on, seriously," Rowan lied.  
  
"You can talk to me about anything," said Dot, "Just remember that."  
  
"I'm  _fine,"_  Rowan insisted.  
  
"All right, but I'll be around if you change your mind," Dot said, stepping outside Rowan's bedroom at last. Rowan quickly closed the door behind her, locking it and groaning in frustration.  
  
" _Pilates_ , though?" Jack said with a smirk.  
  
"Oh  _shut up_ ," Rowan said, though she was smiling as well.  
  
"She knows you're hiding something," he said as she approached him, standing before him.  
  
"I know, I hate it," she sighed, feeling that terrible feeling of guilt yet again. She had to be the only girl who could literally hide a boy from her mother in plain sight. "This would all just be so much easier if she could see you, then I could just be like 'this is my new boyfriend, deal with it' and just focus on keeping everyone in the dark about the  _life threatening_  parts."  
  
"'New boyfriend,' hm?" he said, taking one of her hands in his. Every action they seemed to take now came with less and less hesitation. It was as though they didn't have anything to lose.  
  
If only that were actually the case.  
  
"Yes, you don't get to kiss me like that without committing," she smiled. "Sorry."  
  
"I guess I can live with that," he said.  
  
"Good," she said. "So, we're in agreement. This is a terrible idea and we're going to do it anyway."  
  
"That could be the title of my autobiography, honestly."  
  
Rowan smiled and Jack went to stand before Rowan pulled her hand from his grasp and gently set a hand to either of his shoulders, pushing him back down. She climbed onto his lap, knees on either side of him, feeling heat rush to her cheeks as she found herself reenacting part of her dream from the other night.  
  
She had to make sure Jack never found out about this dream, she would never hear the end of it.  
  
Jack raised a brow at her sudden action in surprise before setting his hands to her thighs, pulling her closer, if that was at all possible.  
  
"Where were we?" she whispered, sliding her fingers into his hair again.  
  
Jack's own fingers slid up her thigh, under the hem of her sweater again, bringing a trail of twisting frost designs with him. "Somewhere around here."  
  
He kissed her again, their bodies so close that Rowan could swear she felt his heart pulsing as wildly as hers was. She wondered if he could feel hers, crashing so violently against her ribcage. Jack Frost was terrible for her blood pressure. Jack Frost was terrible for her emotional health, and judging by the amount she was shivering, probably her physical health as well.  
  
Jack Frost was terrible for her father's heating bill. Jack Frost was terrible for her social life and her relationship with basically everyone. Jack Frost was terrible, simply terrible in every conceivable way.  
  
But as his cold lips trailed down her jaw and to her throat, all Rowan could bring herself to think was that Jack Frost was wonderful, simply wonderful, in every conceivable way.

 


	34. Responsibilities

_"I just got the best visual,” Thalia said._

_"Really? Because I just got the worst," Terpsichore said, wincing._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Responsibilities**

* * *

  
  
"Well ladies, the sun's starting to come up, I think we made it through the new moon without any surprises," Tooth said, eyes on the horizon and Tsar Lunar's oddly-shaped sword in her hand.  
  
"Very good," Polyhymnia said contently. She was now seated in front of Euterpe and the hood she usually had up at all times was pulled down to allow the younger Muse to run a hairbrush through her dark curls.  
  
"I'm actually a little disappointed," Terpsichore said. She'd taken to doing various tricks with a spare coin she'd found on one of the platforms to keep herself busy.  
  
"You're disappointed nothing tried to consume our powers and kill us tonight?" Calliope asked, cocking a brow.  
  
"They can't steal  _our_  power without stealing Rowan's first, would've been a waste of a trip," Melpomene said, sounding almost bored.  
  
"I'm disappointed we didn't get to see the revival of Toothiana: Sword Master," Terpsichore clarified.  
  
"I just wish we could do more to help, I feel like a princess being locked in the tower for her own good," Euterpe said with a roll of the eye, still brushing Polyhymnia's hair.  
  
Tooth frowned, settling herself down on the platform beside Euterpe, sword in her lap. "You're all so powerful in other ways," she said. "I think there's something to be said about the fact that Surya- Or, Apollo, I suppose-"  
  
"Apollo, Surya, Ra, he goes by  _so_  many names," Erato said, fiddling with the golden arrow necklace she always wore. "We just prefer Apollo."  
  
"Well,  _I_  like Wuriupranili, but that's a bit of a mouthful," Terpsichore smirked.  
  
"Well, that story is also about a woman," Calliope pointed out.  
  
"Have you  _seen_  Apollo's legs?" Thalia said, eyebrows shooting up. "They're supermodel legs.  _Lady_  supermodel legs."  
  
"Pitch has legs like that, I'm constantly reminded of like,  _Rocky Horror,"_  Melpomene said, making a face.  
  
"I just got the  _best_  visual," Thalia said.  
  
"Really? Because I just got the worst," Terpsichore said, wincing.  
  
 _"As I was saying,"_  Tooth said, shaking the idea of Pitch as Dr. Frank-N-Furter from her mind. "I think there's something to be said about the fact that when he brought you all back, when he granted you these powers, it was with the intention that all of you would be here to  _create._ "  
  
 _"Not_  destroy, I agree, Toothiana," Polyhymnia said with a short nod.  
  
"It's not even a matter of having violent powers, it's being able to  _defend_  ourselves," Erato said. "And each other. The best any of us can really do is escape efficiently."  
  
"That's not entirely true, Clio's taught herself to shoot," Calliope pointed out. "And Terpsichore, Euterpe, haven't you been studying T'ai Chi with Bunnymund?"  
  
"We have, he says we're doing very well," Terpsichore said, tucking the coin she'd been playing with away and beginning to demonstrate the graceful moves that the Pooka had taught her. "I love it, it's like a dance."  
  
"Yeah, a lot of good hand-to-hand combat is going to do us when we can't get a hand  _on_  these things," Euterpe said with a frustrated sigh. "I just feel so  _useless_ , you know? Like I've just got to sit here like a good girl and wait for the big strong Guardians to slay the dragon."  
  
"We all have our strengths," Tooth said. "Just because yours don't have a place in this  _particular_  conflict doesn't mean that you're weak."  
  
"Well why can't they?" Melpomene said. "Bunnymund intends to fight the Shadow People, doesn't he?"  
  
"Yeah, but not with T'ai Chi. North is going to make him new boomerangs, what's your point?" Erato asked.  
  
"So we make you guys some gloves or something out of the stardust," Melpomene said, as though it were obvious.  
  
"Then we could get a grip on them," Terpsichore said, eyes lighting up at the idea. "I love when you're on our side, Mel."  
  
"I'm  _always_  on your side," she mumbled.  
  
"I'm not sure North knows how to turn stardust into something that can be woven," Tooth said thoughtfully. Most of his clothes were made by the yetis, as far as she knew, and not by any magical means.  
  
"Oh, you know who would know?" Thalia said, grin on her face.  _"Arachne."_  
  
"Oh, she  _definitely_  would," Calliope said, seemingly quite pleased about this idea.  
  
"Would she do it for us?" Tooth asked. It had been ages since she'd seen the seamstress that lovingly crafted magical garments for nearly every great legend. Each inch of fabric was woven by hand, with incredible attention to detail and amazing speed.  
  
"Please, she  _loves_  a challenge and we're her best clients," Erato said. Her tone became teasing. "Not to mention, she'd probably do  _anything_  if  _Thalia_  asked."  
  
The Muse in question blushed and glanced away.  
  
"Didn't she say she'd like to try her hand at more armor anyway?" Calliope asked.  
  
"Yes, after she made Cupid's new arm guard, she said she wanted to try something more complex," said Erato. "We'll have to run it by her when we place our dress orders."  
  
"Dress orders?" Melpomene asked. The other Muses and Tooth seemed confused as well.  
  
"There's a very,  _very_  good chance that Nicholas is going to bring back the New Year's Ball," Erato elaborated, unable to hide her grin.  
  
"What? Really?" Euterpe said, clearly excited. Erato nodded.  
  
"In the middle of all this?" said Calliope, brow furrowed.  
  
"New Year's Eve is a few days after the full moon, the weapons won't be ready anyway, we might as well have  _fun_ , right?" Erato said.  
  
"But all of us gathered in one place-" Calliope started.  
  
"On a  _nearly full moon_ , what can they do?" Tooth asked. It would be a lie to say that she hadn't missed the balls. She was certain that it was something most mythical beings had looked forward to as the year came to its end in past centuries.  
  
Calliope bit her lip.  
  
"Oh, I really hope this happens," Terpsichore said. "I miss dancing with everyone. Even if  _some_  people won't dance until they've had a few drinks."  
  
"Some people  _can't_  dance until they've had a few drinks," Erato snickered.  
  
"It was always so nice to catch up with everyone," Polyhymnia said.  
  
"And the band!" Euterpe added. "I loved singing with them." Melpomene winced slightly.  
  
"I can do my impressions!" Thalia smiled. "Oh, this  _has_  to happen now."  
  
"The yetis are already pushing for it, too, I really think it will," Erato said. She winced as the sun finally inched out from behind one of the peaks in the distance and into her eyes. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes, smiling slightly.  
  
"Morning, Apollo."

* * *

  
  
  
It was still dark in Massachusetts. Bill had made the mistake of telling his wife and daughter during dinner that he had gotten distracted – thought he'd heard a voice, he'd said – on the drive home and slid the car over a sheet of ice. Turned entirely around and nearly went straight off the road! He had further dug himself into a hole when he mentioned that the headlights went out for a moment before he was able to get his car back in the right direction.  
  
Dot had spent a great deal of time fussing and reminding him to  _pay attention_  to the road, especially in weather like this. Obviously, Rowan picked up her daydreaming habit from  _him_ , she insisted. The woman had given a rather lengthy lecture about how any time either of them were behind the wheel of a car, they turned her into a worried  _mess_  because paying attention to something that wasn't a comic book or drawing for more than two minutes was apparently a great challenge for them.  
  
Bill had turned to Rowan for support, as he tended to do when Dot criticized the traits that her husband and daughter shared, only to find her watching him with quite the worried expression. He had asked her if she was all right.  
  
She simply stated that she was glad he had gotten home safe, cleared her plate, and disappeared up the stairs, followed quietly by the boy neither Dot nor Bill could see.  
  
"I'm worried about her," Dot said as soon as they heard Rowan's bedroom door close. "I think she's hiding something."  
  
"Like what?" Bill asked. It wasn't like Rowan not to join him in defending daydreaming habits and their importance. It was also unlike her to ignore any jabs at her driving skills (or lack thereof) without throwing a jab right back.  
  
"I don't know, when I got home I went to her room and she was sitting in the dark, all out of breath."  
  
"Did you ask her about it?"  
  
"She said she was doing  _Pilates,"_  Dot said, cocking a brow.  
  
"Is that slang for something now?" Bill said, taking his phone from his pocket and looking this up.  
  
"It's an  _excuse_ ," Dot said, shaking her head. Sure enough, everything that came up in his search was not slang-related in the least. "I'm her mother, I know when she's lying."  
  
"Well, okay, it was dark and she was out of breath, did you check the usual hiding places for a young boy?" Bill said, visibly uncomfortable at the suggestion.  
  
"Where on earth would a boy hide in her room? There isn't any room in the closet thanks to her inability to throw anything out-"  
  
"To be fair, she takes those old clothes and makes new ones out of them," Bill pointed out. "We have a very crafty daughter, Dot, and crafty people hoard things to  _create_  with."  
  
"You're just justifying it because it's  _another_  habit she gets from you. Which is why a boy couldn't hide under her bed since  _you_ decided to store your comic books there because there's no more room under  _our_  bed," Dot said, crossing her arms before her and watching her husband critically.  
  
"You knew I was a collector when you married me," was all Bill could say to this. "What about under the desk?"  
  
"No, she got something out of her bag under the desk, that's all that was there," Dot sighed. "Besides, who on earth could she be  _hiding?"_  
  
"We don't know, that's why he's hiding," Bill nodded.  
  
"Maybe it isn't a boy, maybe she's taking something, maybe I should get one of those home drug testing kits," Dot said, fiddling with the bracelet she wore as she considered this.  
  
"I don't think Rowan's on drugs."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yeah, she goes to art school and drinks expensive coffee, what money does she have left for drugs?" Bill said.  
  
"The emergency credit card you gave her?"  
  
"I don't think drug dealers take credit cards, dear."  
  
"Can't you accept credit cards with a cell phone now? By getting one of those tiny scanners you plug into it."  
  
"Yes, but that leaves a trail for the police to follow. Think like a criminal sometimes, Dottie, I thought  _you_  were the lawyer here. Besides, I've been monitoring that card, she's used it exactly once to fill her gas tank, which she  _told us about_. She's _definitely_  not going to tell you what's going on if you give her a surprise drug test."  
  
"Well, I don't know what else to do! There's something going on with her, she seems so distant lately and more distracted than usual. I wonder if something happened at school or if there was something about the breakup with Danny that she didn't tell me about or-"  
  
"I sincerely doubt any of this has to do with Danny," Bill said with a roll of the eye.  
  
"How do you figure that?"  
  
"He was way too  _boring_  to cause any trouble."  
  
"I liked Danny."  
  
"Well, you like boring guys. Case and point," Bill said, pointing to himself.  
  
"You're not boring," Dot said, shaking her head. "You're much too weird to be boring."  
  
"Fine then, you liked Danny because he wasn't Luke."  
  
"Are you saying she was better off with Luke? Because if it's between the two of them  _of course_  I'd pick Danny, he had a _future._ "  
  
"A  _boring_  future. Don't get me wrong, I hated Luke too, but at least he was interesting. The only entertaining thing about Danny was how terrified he was of me," Bill shrugged. "Do you know why I fell in love with you?"  
  
"Because I was the only one at that party that laughed at your X-Men joke?" Dot said, furrowing her brow.  
  
"Well, yeah," Bill said with a short nod. "But it's also because you challenge me and you're interesting, you keep my attention. You're  _not boring."_  
  
"Well, thank you, I would hope not," Dot smiled.  
  
"You keep saying Rowan's like me," Bill said. "I'm surprised things lasted with Danny as long as they did. He didn't challenge her. She was never excited to just see the kid, half the time I wasn't sure if she even liked him. She needs someone that's, well,  _fun."_  
  
"But not Luke fun," Dot added.  
  
"Absolutely not," Bill shook his head.  
  
"I guess you're right. This is not at all what we were talking about before, though," Dot reminded him.  
  
"You knew my attention span sucked when you married me," Bill said with a shrug.  
  
"I just don't know what to do about her, she's hardly given us any problems before, where the hell do I even start?" Dot asked.  
  
"You ask me as though I secretly have other, older children that I've successfully raised so now I know all these things," said Bill. "I'm as clueless as you are."  
  
"Give me an educated guess," she sighed.  
  
"Okay… wait until she comes to you? I mean, she does  _actually_  talk to you about things, so, it's only a matter of time, right? Try not to come up with theories that are just going to freak you out in the meantime."  
  
"I guess," Dot sighed. "So, no drug test."  
  
"Not until you come home and find her talking to someone that isn't there," Bill said with a short nod.  
  
"That seems fair enough."

* * *

  
  
  
"The fact that the Shadow People were  _so close_  and he had no idea, I just-! I'm so  _over_  this," Rowan groaned, sitting on her bed beside Jack.  
  
"Hey, at least he got away fine," Jack pointed out.  
  
"But what if he hadn't?"  
  
"But he  _did,"_  Jack said leaning back against her pillows. He hadn't realized how much he missed pillows. He was starting to think that perhaps his small cabin needed a few upgrades as far as making his occasional naps more comfortable went.  
  
"I'm going to worry about this  _every night_  I'm away from here, I can already tell," she sighed. Jack frowned. Their earlier make-out session had done wonders as far as distracting from the situation at hand went, but as soon as her father returned and the family sat to dinner, that all went straight out the window.  
  
"What if we get Manny to assign moonbeams to your parents like he's been doing with the Muses?" Jack asked, taking Rowan's arm and tugging her gently in his direction. She crawled over, settling down beside him and resting her head against his shoulder.  
  
"Do you think he would do that? I mean, they aren't Muses or myths or anything special," she frowned, he slid his arm around her shoulders.  
  
"It can't hurt to ask," he said, realizing he hadn't considered that. Would Manny spare some moonbeams for adult mortals, for the sake of easing Rowan's mind? "I'll talk to North tomorrow."  
  
"Thank you," she said. "For everything, I don't know how I could repay you for any of this."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Jack said. "Besides, it could be worse."  
  
"Yeah, the Shadow People could've killed me and sucked out my parents' souls," Rowan sighed.  
  
"That's not was I was talking about," he said.  
  
"What, then?"  
  
"Your parents could have noticed that hickey, and then you would have had to try and explain how you got it doing  _Pilates,"_ Jack snickered. Rowan's brows furrowed in surprise as she sat upright, fumbling for her phone and fiddling with the screen. Turning on the forward-facing camera to act as a mirror, she tilted her head to get a better look at her neck.  
  
Sure enough, there was a red mark- no,  _two_  red marks – on the side of her neck. Her hair had thankfully been covering it.  
  
 _"Damn it,_  Jack," Rowan sighed. He laughed again.  _"Two of them though?"_  
  
"Actually," he said, reaching forward and pulling at her collar, past her collarbone to reveal a third mark.  
  
"Nice," she said with a groan.  
  
"You're welcome," he said, smugness practically radiating from his being.  
  
"You  _had_  to leave your mark, didn't you?" Rowan said, shaking her head, examining the love bites on her phone's screen again. There were very faint lines within the mark, symmetrical and branching out from the center.  
  
Snowflakes?  
  
"Didn't hear any protests at the time, unless I was supposed to take all those times you  _groaned my name_  as a sign to stop," he laughed. "Should we designate a safe word?"  
  
"Oh my  _God,"_  Rowan said, turning red and burying her face in her hands in embarrassment, her phone set aside.  
  
"Yes, I think you said that, too. We barely got to second base, Rowan, you should try pacing yourself," he grinned. She shoved him back, which didn't accomplish much considering he was already basically lying down.  
  
She leaned over him, propping herself up on her elbows and watching him critically. "So you just expect me to hide  _something else_  from everyone?" she said.  
  
"Either that or come up with a better excuse than 'Pilates,'" Jack said with a shrug. Rowan rolled her eyes before leaning in closer to him, lips barely brushing against his before softly beginning a trail down to his jaw and throat.  
  
He was still getting used to this. Physical contact in general was still sort of strange after going so long being alone. He had barely gotten used to the friendly gestures the Guardians made at times, like hugs or a hand to the shoulder.  
  
Rowan's touch made him less nervous than he anticipated, however, closing his eyes contently as she slid her fingers into his hair and continued teasing the side of his neck. Her touch was soft and warm, leaving him flushed. He could feel his own body temperature rising, if only slightly, likely not noticeable to anyone beside himself. He was still cold to the touch, just less so.  
  
Whenever her lips pulled away from his skin, her breath came in fog, gently tickling the flesh. Still warm, though she still shivered as he ran his own hands up her sides.  
  
"Sorry about the cold," Jack mumbled, wincing slightly as she shivered again. "It must be strange."  
  
"Jack Frost gave me a hickey," Rowan said, leaning back so that she could properly look him in the eye as she spoke. _"Everything_  about this is strange."  
  
"Three," he corrected. "I gave you three." She rolled her eyes.  
  
She set her lips to his neck again, slowly making her way to his ear, where she whispered, "Besides, I kind of  _like_  the ice and everything, honestly." It was his turn to shiver at the way she whispered to him, speaking in such a way that it was clear in voice that she was smiling before re-focusing her attention on his neck. There was something nice about that, too, besides the fact that a pretty girl was kissing his neck.  
  
It was the fact that she was doing it to get back at  _him_  for leaving marks on  _her_. He couldn't help but smirk, craning his neck a bit so that she'd have an easier time getting her petty revenge. It was ridiculous, it was  _fun_ , and that was a pleasant surprise, certainly.  
  
He had been worried, the moment they decided to give this a shot, that he would be reminded too much of Melpomene. That the other Muse would be all that was on his mind.  
  
But they weren't anything alike, and as Rowan lifted her head again, her hair falling straight into his face, leaving them each laughing slightly as he pushed it away, he smiled. The smiling was the most obvious difference and he'd take it any day.  
  
As he tucked locks of hair behind her ear, his mind wandered back to the Muses in general. He couldn't imagine any of them being happy that he and Rowan had decided to get together. Would they  _do_  anything about it? Was there much they  _could_  do about it besides be an annoyance? That ship had sort of sailed, honestly.  
  
If they hadn't thought that  _North_  was good enough for Yelena at first, he certainly had no hope.  
  
Rowan's lips found his again. Soft and sweet and horribly distracting. It was still the new moon, wasn't it? He should be far more worried about the Guardians than the Muses. Regardless of their individual opinions when it came to being with Rowan, they had all been clear on one thing:  _she must not become a distraction_.  
  
He was supposed to be entirely on guard tonight. He was supposed to be  _protecting her_. He should be observing what was going on outside, he should be watching to see if any movements in the shadows would give away a greater plan. He should be keeping an eye on the dream sand barrier to make sure it was still intact, that nothing had gotten past it.  
  
This was when the Shadow People had the ability to do the most damage and yet moving his tongue with hers seemed  _so much_ more important right now. As did slipping his hands beneath her sweater once more, tracing that tattoo on her right side.  
  
There was a nagging voice in his head, suspiciously like a certain rabbit's, telling him to knock it off. He pulled his hands away from her torso, reaching for the sides of her face, gently pulling her away. He sighed.  
  
"Two hundred and fifty years, no physical contact, at least not like  _this_  and now I have  _responsibilities_ ," he mumbled, sitting upright. Rowan eyed him in confusion. "I'm  _supposed_  to be guarding you," he elaborated.  
  
"Oh, so no sloppy make-outs while you're on the clock, hm?" she asked, cocking a brow. Jack sighed, watching as she fixed her sweater. Sloppy make-outs while on the clock sounded so much more  _fun_ , why was he being responsible again?  
  
Oh, right, the "life threatening," "we're placing the fate of the Muses in your hands," thing.  
  
"As much as it pains me to say it, at least not for the new moon," Jack said, wincing as the words passed his lips. "Or, at least not  _so much?"_  
  
"No, no, you're right, you have a job to do," Rowan said with a smirk, leaning over and pecking his forehead briefly before pulling herself to her feet.  
  
"Where are you going? I'm supposed guarding  _you,"_  he said again.  
  
 _"I'm_  going to take a shower, which you will not think about  _at all_  while you're here keeping watch," she said, pulling clothes from her dresser drawer.  
  
"Right," Jack said, feeling the limited heat in his body rushing to his cheeks as certain images immediately flooded to his mind. "Not going to think about you in the shower, especially not after you explicitly told me not to. I would never do that, what kind of spirit do you take me for?"  
  
"Oh, I know, you are  _entirely_  professional, always," she said, approaching him, still seated on her bed, and ruffling his hair.  
  
"Just like I'm sure you won't be thinking of  _me_  while you're in there," he added.  
  
"Of course not," she said, cheeks turning red.  
  
"Especially not while-" he started before she leaned over and kissed him again, briefly, in what he was certain was only an excuse to cut him off.  
  
"I'll be back," she said in a sing-song voice, turning from him and leaving her room, gently shutting the door behind her.  
  
He smirked, taking his staff in hand again as he stood to look outside the window at the twirling dream sand barrier. While he scanned the area in front of the house for anything suspicious, he couldn't help but think of precisely what Rowan had told him not to.


	35. Crafts

_"Are you telling me that something is actually working in our favor?” Jack said skeptically._

* * *

 

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Crafts**

* * *

  
The stupidest grin imaginable was fixed on Jack Frost's face as he strolled through the North Pole, humming softly to himself as he went. He gracefully weaved between passing yetis and stepped over scurrying elves. It seemed that the amount of movement at the pole increased tenfold each time he returned, as Christmas drew nearer and nearer.  
  
He saw no sign of North (not that he was really looking) as he made his way to the man's workshop, finding the door open and letting himself inside. It was dark outside, as it usually was this time of year and this far north, but pleasant snowfall could still be seen gently hitting the glass of the windows. Jack barely glanced outside for a moment before settling down at the far end of the workbench, where the project he'd abandoned the other day still laid waiting for him.  
  
North had not had much stardust left in his possession; it certainly had not been an exaggeration when he had stated that it was not even enough for a small blade. This was fine, however, as Jack didn't plan to use it for a weapon. After he discussed his idea with North, the older Guardian had agreed immediately and went straight into showing Jack just how he might go about actually  _constructing_  this object.  
  
North always started with an ice model, which was the easiest step thus far. Jack had constructed what he had in mind with a simple wave of the hand, leaving North shaking his head with a laugh, commenting that he could save so much time if he put Jack to work for him.  
  
The next steps weren't quite as easy. A mold had to be made, which wasn't  _so_  bad, as the yetis already had a system in place, so they were more than willing to help. But after, the stardust had to change its form to  _fit_  the mold. This part in particular made Jack nervous, as it involved mixing the stardust with another sort of metal and melting it down. He managed heat well to an extent, but  _molten_  objects were sort of frightening regardless. North had lent him a hand with this as well, explaining the process as he went.  
  
He had seemed pleased that not only was Jack listening, but seemed  _interested_. North was a decent teacher, obviously excited about what he was teaching. He had commented that he rarely got to help with the finished products anymore; usually the yetis immediately took over after he finished the preliminary ice sculpture. It was mostly personal gifts, like Jack's matryoshka doll, that he got to work on start to finish.  
  
After the stardust mixture had finally cooled, Jack was left with a small, metal replica of his sculpture from earlier that needed to have imperfections from the mold buffed out. Considering his state of mind when he had started this project, still so upset about Rowan, Jack had aggressively done this by hand, taking out much of his frustration on the small object. As a result, this step was almost done, almost all the edges smooth, Jack found, as he picked it up again and examined his earlier work. Far more gently this time, he took one of the various tools that North had let him borrow and began to work on the piece.  
  
"I suppose it is safe to assume that things went well with Rowan?" came North's voice a short while later, taking Jack by surprise. He immediately glanced upward to find the man standing nearby and grinned.  
  
"Kind of," he said with a short shrug.  
  
"Just  _kind_  of? I don't think I've ever heard you  _humming_  before," North said with a smirk. "And I do not think that is a bruise on your neck."  
  
Jack immediately set a hand to the side of his neck where the mark in question was, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as North laughed. He had completely forgotten about it when he had woken up earlier. He'd stayed up until sunrise, watching for any movement in the shadows while Rowan had busied herself with her sketchbook and soon enough, sleep. When he finally rested his head beside her, she woke only briefly to pull him closer, head against his chest. They slept late.  
  
When they finally got up, he hadn't considered the marks she'd left on his neck (or the ones he left on hers), but was instead distracted by the fact that he had to leave for the day and was going to  _miss_  her in those few hours like the total sap he'd become.  
  
"Right, well, we worked things out," Jack said vaguely, hand still over the hickey.  
  
"Did you watch out for Shadow People at all last night or were you otherwise distracted  _working things out_?" North asked, cocking a brow, though still smiling.  
  
"I was her guard. You have no idea how painful it was to play watchdog after that," Jack sighed.  
  
"I was young man once too, I have idea," North chuckled. "But good, I am proud of you, Jack, for remembering why you are there in first place."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I can't promise it'll always be like that," Jack said. It hadn't helped that a chorus of the Guardians' previous comments had taken the place of whatever conscience he might have had.  
  
Granted, he was still directly disobeying at least Bunny. He took some pride in that.  
  
"Very well. Sandy said that he had to send out reinforcements?"  
  
"I, uh, thought you would have heard all the details already, considering you know when we're sleeping and when we're awake and all that," Jack said, returning his attention to his project. He knew the details of how the night had started would have to come out at some point, but he wasn't looking forward to giving a full report.  
  
"My sources have been otherwise occupied, it  _is_  so close to Christmas, after all," North said. "What happened?"  
  
"Well, Rowan wasn't there when I showed up," Jack said. North frowned. "She promised to wait in line to get a book signed for her dad, so that's where she was. I found her just after the Shadow People did and thanks to Sandy's reinforcements we were able to get away… there were a lot more of them this time."  
  
"She should not have been out," North said, shaking his head.  
  
"Believe me, she and I had that discussion already," Jack said, shaking his head as well, with a slight roll of the eye. "And I still can't believe she'd put herself in that position but I mean, her other option was to lie to get out of it and you wouldn't believe how  _bad_  she is at it."  
  
"Not being skilled liar is not necessarily bad thing," North said.  
  
"In this situation it wouldn't hurt," Jack said, eyes still fixed on his project. "I mean, it isn't like she can tell her parents that she's dating an invisible 318-year-old that  _has_  to come by every night to make sure nothing eats her soul."  
  
"That  _is_  hard to explain," North said with a nod. "Yelena had no family, made things slightly easier. When it came to that, anyway."  
  
"I can tell she really hates hiding things from them, and her mother at least suspects that something else is going on. Speaking of, I told her that I'd look into seeing if Manny could spare some moonbeams to trail her parents."  
  
"I am certain that Manny wouldn't mind doing that," North said, glancing out the window to the small sliver of the moon that was visible. Jack glanced there as well, smiling slightly when the barely-visible moon seemed to shine brighter briefly in acknowledgement.  
  
"Glad to know," Jack said. "She worries about enough as it is."  
  
"She certainly has enough to worry about," North said. "I am glad you two are safe, but I certainly hope Rowan will be more cautious for the next new moon."  
  
"Yeah, same here," Jack said, already planning to be with her early for the next one. "She said they spoke to her."  
  
"I have never heard of them doing that before," North said, brow furrowed.  
  
"We're going to have to ask Pitch about it," Jack said, making a face at the idea.  
  
"Unfortunately," North said. A knock came from the workshop door, causing both Guardians to look up in surprise. North strolled across the room, opening the door and taking a large box from one of the yetis.  
  
"Finished already? Excellent! Thank you, thank you," North said before closing the door again and bringing the box to the table, setting it down. Jack glanced inside, curiously, finding that the box was filled with red envelopes.  
  
"What're those?" Jack asked.  
  
"Invitations," North said, beginning to thumb through the box until he pulled out an envelope that had "Jack Frost," written in golden script and handed it to him. Setting down his project, Jack took the envelope and eyed the wax seal on the back.  
  
"Invitations?" Jack repeated, carefully opening the envelope and pulling the card out. The paper was thick, high quality. The print was bold and angular, much like North himself. Jack quickly read the card, brow furrowing the whole way. "A ball? In the middle of everything else?"  
  
"There is much to celebrate. Cannot get so caught up in hard work and deadlines that we forget fun," North said with a short nod. Jack couldn't help but smirk.  
  
"It says it's 'the return of the St. North New Year's Eve Ball,' did you have this before?" he asked.  
  
"The last one was when Yelena was still alive, it was one of her favorite things," North said, a small, sad smile playing at his lips. "But is time to bring it back, I think."  
  
"Who usually goes?" Jack asked, glancing at the box. There was an obscene amount of invitations.  
  
"Nearly  _everyone_ ," North said with a smile. He sorted through the box again before pulling out another envelope and handing it to the boy. "I trust I can rely on you to deliver this one?"  
  
Jack glanced at the envelope, finding it addressed to "Rowan Sawyer."  
  
"Yeah, I'll give it to her," Jack said.  
  
"I think it would be nice opportunity for her to meet the other Muses. Without something bad being the reason," said North as Jack stuffed the invitations into his jacket pocket.  
  
" _All_  the other Muses?" Jack said, wincing slightly. North opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted as, with a flash of light, there was suddenly someone standing on the table they sat at. She lost her balance briefly, arms flailing, before managing to stand upright again.  
  
"Speak of the devil," Jack said, standing up and offering Thalia a hand so that she could climb down from the table.  
  
"Sorry! I miscalculated, I thought I was going to end up outside your office, not on top of your work," the blonde said, taking Jack's hand and gracefully jumping down from the table before finally unfastening her grinning comedy mask from her face. "Mel was always better at this than I was."  
  
"No harm done, what brings you by?" North asked.  
  
"I am the stand-in messenger while Urania's away," Thalia said, hands to her hips and pride practically radiating from her person.  
  
"Ah, so what is the message?" North asked.  
  
"Oh my  _God,_  is that a hickey?" Thalia said, completely ignoring North and pointing to Jack's neck. Jack quickly set a hand to his neck again, only to have Thalia take his wrist and pull it away, leaning in to examine the boy's neck closer.  
  
" _You've_  been fooling around with the Mortal Muse! Haven't you?" she asked, grey eyes wide. "Oh, wait until Erato finds out that I found this out  _before her_. Unless Cupid found out and already told her, they have a talent for figuring out these things, it's how she figured out that you  _rejected_  Tooth the other day without her saying anything. Speaking of which, I'd lay low around Calliope for a while if I were you-"  
  
"You rejected Tooth?" North said, raising a brow. Jack sank back into his seat in irritated silence.  
  
It seemed that Tooth swearing she wouldn't say anything to the Muses made no difference if Erato could sense when something happened in someone's love life. Why did the Muses need to know  _everything?_  
  
"Oh you didn't know? Oops," Thalia said with a wince. "Well, basically, Tooth has a giant crush on Jack, right?  _Everyone_  knows that."  
  
"I did not know that," North said, glancing back at Jack. "Thought she just liked your teeth a lot."  
  
"Same," said Jack.  
  
"And she told him at the  _worst possible moment_  but he let her down easy because, you know, Jack's a decent guy. There's no hard feelings but  _wow_  he didn't waste any time before getting cozy with Rowan. But I guess you two were already headed in that direction for a while, huh?"  
  
"Can we  _not_  talk about this?" Jack said, feeling his cheeks turn red. North looked exceptionally confused, if anything.  
  
"Well there's not much more to it than that. At least I don't think there is. Is there?" Thalia asked.  
  
"No, you pretty much summed it up," he sighed.  
  
"Oh good! So now that we're all caught up on that, moving right along, you're using protection, right? I don't know if you're fertile, being a human icicle and all, but-"  
  
"Thalia, I do believe you had a message for us?" North cut in as Jack sank further down in his chair.  _Was he fertile? Seriously?_ Everything had been going  _so_  well until Thalia showed up and started talking. This seemed to happen when it came to him and the Muses a lot.  
  
And he usually was on decent terms with  _this_  one.  
  
"Oh! Right, right, well, we were about to leave Tooth Palace when the stars shifted around, so really, I'm filling in for Urania by delivering a message  _from_  Urania. I think we decoded everything right, unfortunately Urania and Clio are the best at reading the stars and of course they're  _not here_ , so," Thalia said.  
  
"Okay, but  _what's the message?"_  Jack asked.  
  
"So impatient," Thalia said, shaking her head. "I spent so long composing this so it would rhyme and you repay me by being all _snippy_." She clicked her tongue disapprovingly.  
  
She straightened her stance slightly before clearing her throat and adjusting the ruffles on the collar of her outfit. "Our trio in the stars send greetings, say they miss us since our last meeting. While the stardust harvesting is  _really_  going great, to be on solid ground again, Bunny just can't wait."  
  
Jack and North immediately exchanged glances, each with tight-lipped smiles in an attempt to keep from laughing. Jack was certain North was thinking of precisely what he was: Bunny's panic when riding the sleigh a few months back.  
  
"They have collected enough for a small brigade; Clio cannot wait to help get these weapons made. They all have ideas, and they're sure you do too; they're just about ready to bid the stars adieu. In just a few days they'll be turning back around, and be back by Christmas Eve morning, safe and sound. Well, mostly safe, that is, there's still those shadow jerks. Speaking of, they hope everything with the new moon worked."  
  
Jack shrugged slightly. The new moon hadn't gone as  _smoothly_  as everyone wanted but he supposed it worked out.  
  
"They'll assume no news is good news and try to check in soon, and also say hello, both from the sun and from the moon. And one last message, from Bunny to Jack: Don't make him lecture you when he comes back."  
  
Thalia took a bow to signal that her message was through, prompting Jack and North to politely clap for her though Jack fidgeted slightly.  
  
"Oh, I'm not going to be able to deliver on that last one," he said, somewhat irritated with the fact that Bunny felt the need to send a message to him  _through the stars_  to remind him to behave.  
  
"I would hope he didn't expect much from that one in the first place," Thalia said with a short nod. "Anyway, I know the meter was all weird with that and it wasn't exactly  _poetry_  but you know… Calliope wouldn't help me, so what can you do?"  
  
"It was very nice, Thalia, thank you. Now, while you are acting as messenger, can I trust you to deliver a few things for me?" North said, beginning to leaf through the invitations again.  
  
"Of course!" said Thalia, practically bouncing at the idea of another job as temporary messenger. North removed several envelopes from the box before handing them to the Muse. "Oh! Are these invitations for the ball?"  
  
"I take it Erato mentioned it," North said.  
  
"Of course she did!" Thalia smiled.  
  
"Yes, they are invitations. For all the Muses except Urania and Clio, as they are away. I will give them theirs upon their return. I also gave you Cupid's, I imagine Erato will be able to find him."  
  
"Oh certainly, he might even be with her when I find her, he's been all  _worried_  since all this started," Thalia nodded, flipping through the envelopes until she found the one with her name and tore it open, excitedly reading what was inside. "I can't wait! Are you sure there isn't anyone else you want me to deliver their invites to?"  
  
"Hmm," North said, pulling out another envelope and handing it to Thalia. "Arachne. I imagine you'll see her."  
  
"Oh, yes, definitely. Melpomene suggested we have her weave stardust into material, actually. That way, if we make it into gloves, Terpsichore and Euterpe could easily join in the fight against the Shadow People as well," Thalia said. "Should I ask her about that when I go?"  
  
"Is a good idea, please do," North nodded. Jack furrowed his brow, taken aback by the fact that Melpomene had actually suggested something  _useful_.  
  
What was the catch?  
  
And who was Arachne?  
  
"She's going to be so excited," Thalia sighed. "And the ball! It's been so long. Are you inviting Pitch, you know, out of politeness? Should I take his when I take Mel's- Oh, his is in here, very good. I suppose it's best to just suck it up and invite him, Mel would have brought him as her plus one to irritate everyone anyway."  
  
"Is a time to put aside our differences and be at peace, if only for few hours. I have always invited him, as sign of good faith. He has never attended. I suppose we'll see what happens this time," North said with a short shrug.  
  
"Sounds like drama waiting to happen, I just hope I'm sober enough to enjoy it," Thalia said, tucking the envelopes into her collar before pulling out her mask once more. "Is there anything else?"  
  
"I do not think so," North said, glancing toward Jack who shook his head.  
  
"All right. By the way, whatever you're making, it looks pretty," Thalia said, gesturing to Jack's project on the tabletop before fastening her mask to her face.  
  
"Thanks," he said.  
  
"That's all, folks," she said with a wave before disappearing from the spot.  
  
"Well, that was exhausting," Jack said.  
  
"Is how the Muses tend to be," North smiled. "But, is quite a few less invitations I have to worry about now."  
  
"Is this a, uh, formal thing?" Jack said, gesturing to the invitations. He didn't exactly have a vast wardrobe and it wasn't as though he had any reason to own a suit in the past few centuries.  
  
He didn't even know how neckties  _worked_.  
  
"Yes, yes, but do not worry, we will figure out something for you," North said.  
  
"It's going to be interesting," Jack said. "I wonder if Rowan will even be able to come up with a good cover story for her parents. If she can't sneak away,  _I_  really can't."  
  
Jack Frost in a suit and tie at a large, social gathering. It had a strong potential to be a complete disaster.  
  
"Let me know if you get it sorted out, I have good feeling you will," said North. "Now, about this business with you and Tooth."  
  
"Right, well, we're fine, really. It was awkward, but I think we both handled it pretty well," Jack said with a short nod. "Basically she feels more for me than I feel for her… and I had to tell her that. Immediately after being rejected by Rowan. So it was… like I said, awkward. And then things worked out with Rowan and I and I didn't even consider how quickly that got sorted out until Thalia brought it up."  
  
"But you and Tooth won't be avoiding each other during future meeting or anything," North said.  
  
"We shouldn't, unless it went worse than  _I_  thought it did," Jack said. "We're still friends and everything."  
  
"Good, good. We are going to have  _so much_  to fill Bunny in when he returns," North said, shaking his head slightly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that," Jack winced.  
  
"It is what it is. Now, how is this gift you are working on coming along?"  


* * *

  
  
"You are cordially invited to the triumphant return of the St. North New Year's Eve Ball, to take place the thirty-first of December at Sundown, through well into the first of January. Located at the Grand North Pole Estate, this event seeks to bring together friends to reminisce, allow rivals to be temporarily at peace, and provide the entire legendary community an opportunity to celebrate the achievements of the year together, with great company and excellent food," said Rowan as she read her invitation aloud, seated at her desk.  
  
She glanced up at Jack, unable to hide the smile pulling at her lips. "A party? Being thrown by  _Santa Claus_  and full of mythological beings I've only ever seen imagined representations of?  _And I'm invited?_  This is-"  
  
"Let me guess, 'insanity'?" Jack said with a smirk.  
  
"Well, it is!" Rowan said, eyes darting back to the invitation. "I mean, who usually goes to this?"  
  
"This is the first year I've been invited, so I don't know much more than you do, but he had a  _lot_  of invitations to ship out," Jack said. "I know he's inviting the other Guardians, obviously, and the other Muses. He also mentioned Pitch, Cupid, and someone whose name starts with an A, what was it? Arachnid or something?"  
  
"Arachne?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Yeah, I think that was it," Jack nodded.  
  
"Wow," she sighed, running her fingers over the text of the invitation. Suddenly, she pulled herself to her feet. "What am I going to  _wear?_ I imagine it's a formal event."  
  
"Yeah, it is," Jack said as she walked past him and opened the door to what seemed to be the most cluttered closet in existence and began shuffling through the clothes on the rack. "What are you going to tell your parents? I mean, they'll have to notice you missing."  
  
"I shouldn't have to tell them anything, it's perfect," Rowan said, still sorting through the closet. "My mom's firm has a New Year's party every year in Boston and my parents make a trip out of it. They go early New Year's Eve to take in the sights and then stay late New Year's Day to sleep off their hangovers. They always tell me it's to take their time and have brunch but I know it's the hangover thing. And I, the well-behaved daughter who no longer speaks to her reckless high school friends, making the possibility of a wild party unlikely, well, I stay here to hold down the fort. They'll never know I was even gone."  
  
"Are you telling me that something is  _actually working in our favor?_ " Jack said skeptically.  
  
"It had to happen at some point," Rowan shrugged, pulling out a fluffy, sparkling, periwinkle blue dress from the closet, having a hard time for a moment removing the skirt fully before holding it up in front of Jack. He tilted his head slightly as though it would make the dress less monstrous.  
  
"It's uh… nice?" Jack said hesitantly.  
  
"It's terrible," she said, hooking the hanger atop the closet door and taking a step back to fully examine the dress. "I got it for the prom junior year and Luke dumped me when it was too late to realize my terrible mistake – both in dating him and purchasing this dress – as well as too late to return it."  
  
"It's just so… fluffy," Jack said. "And… the rhinestones. Kinda surprised it's not pink, I thought that was your theme in high school."  
  
"I thought pink might be  _too_  over the top at the time. This just… screams, 'I am a prom dress,' like Cinderella threw up on it, and I  _swear_  it wasn't so fluffy when I bought it, maybe it expanded in the past couple years," she said thoughtfully.  
  
"So, why did you take it out?" Jack asked.  
  
"Because I have refused to get rid of this dress for years, I didn't want the money I spent on it to go to waste and I wanted to find something I could do with it that could redeem it. Right now, this dress is a fluffy nightmare, right?"  
  
"Right," he said hesitantly.  
  
"It's just, I look at it, and it's full of disappointment and things that I wanted to happen and never did, things that could have been. I was promised a magical night,  _this dress_  was promised a magical night, Jack."  
  
"Okay," he said, cocking a brow, very clearly confused at the amount of enthusiasm she was showing for this old prom dress. "You  _do_  know it's just a dress?"  
  
"This dress is a  _symbol_  of teen angst and rejection."  
  
"You know those fine artists you make fun of? You're starting to sound like them. Does the dress represent the status quo, too?"  
  
"Shut up," she said, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Like I was saying, this dress was promised a magical night."  
  
"Are you going to wear this poofy thing to the ball? Because I  _know_  I don't know much about fashion, but…"  
  
"No, no, I'm going to  _turn_ this poofy thing into what I am going to wear to the ball, I am going to give this dress a second chance at some good memories," Rowan said, pulling a case from inside the closet and setting it on the bed. She immediately opened it, revealing a vast collection of sewing supplies before selecting a seam ripper. She went straight to work, severing the threads that attached the skirt to the bodice. "It has been  _way_  too long since I've had a big sewing project."  
  
"You sure you know what you're doing?" Jack asked as Rowan tugged at the topmost layer of the skirt after she had severed most of the seam with the seam ripper. She simply tore it the rest of the way off, seeming delighted at the noise the tearing fabric made.  
  
"Vaguely," she said. "But I've got a sewing machine and access to the internet. I think I can make this work."  
  
The top layer of the skirt was now in a pile on the floor as Rowan began to work on fluffy layers beneath it with the seam ripper. Jack took a few cautious steps closer before propping his staff against the floor and leaning against it lazily.  
  
"One more question," he said.  
  
"Yeah?" she asked, eyes still fixed on the dress, the sound of threads snapping thick in the air.  
  
"You're going as my  _date_  to this thing, right?" he asked. She tore her eyes away from the dress and smiled as they met his.  
  
"I  _guess,"_  she said with a slight shrug. "I mean, are you going to show me a good time?"  
  
"I'm the  _Guardian of Fun,"_  he grinned.  
  
"Very well, then, Jack Frost, I  _suppose_  you've got yourself a date."  
  
"I  _suppose_  she'll do."  
  
She leaned away from the dress and lightly set her lip to his in a kiss that was far too short, in his opinion, before immediately returning her attention to the dress. She was completely consumed by the fabric in front of her and its deconstruction.  
  
Jack simply smiled and watched as she worked.

* * *

 


	36. Arachne

_"Now, just remember, try not to stare. She’s a… little shocking at first."_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Arachne**

* * *

  
  
Over the weekend, Rowan had moved the remains of her dress downstairs to the large and rarely used, mostly for when someone important came to visit, table in the front room. She had left very little of the original dress intact, mostly the basic structure of the bodice that she was worried she wouldn't be able to reconstruct.  
  
She had painstakingly removed every rhinestone without damaging the fabric underneath. She had pricked her fingers approximately two thousand times while pinning various scraps together in an attempt to re-create something similar to the sketch she had put together.  
  
When her mother had asked her about the sewing machine set-up and why she had torn apart a perfectly good dress, Rowan had simply stated that she had been overcome by the intense need to start a sewing project.  
  
It was a lot easier to believe than being invited to a ball that Santa Claus was throwing. Apparently every few months Rowan dove into a sewing project anyway and so Dot was unfazed. Jack still took note of Rowan's discomfort, however, as soon as she insisted to her mother that the dress wasn't for anything in particular.  
  
This is what Rowan was reflecting on as she and Jack sat on the love seat, not too far away from the sewing machine, but far enough. It was mid-morning and she had already been sewing to the point where she needed a break. Jack noticed that she swore an awful lot more when she was sewing than when she was writing or drawing.  
  
"I just, I talk to her about  _everything_ , and I can't talk to her about any of this, it's the same with Shirley. She keeps texting me wanting to know how things are going with 'Jack Overland' and I don't know what to say," Rowan said.  
  
"Tell her the truth, you've been engaging in sloppy make-outs with him for the past few nights. But significantly less sloppy make-outs because you started this sewing project," Jack teased. The new moon had provided the Shadow People as a distraction, and immediately after, the New Year's Ball had provided the need for a dress as one.  
  
One uninterrupted night might be nice.  
  
"I'm just waiting for her to accuse me of making you up. Like, 'Oh, it's so sad, Rowan made up an imaginary boyfriend.' I mean, she keeps asking for a picture and I can't even take one of you, can I?"  
  
"You could, but it would be kind of like those photos of ghosts, you know? Some people might see  _something_  there, others will say it's a trick of the light, and people who actually believe in me would see, well, me."  
  
"It's all just… complicated," she sighed.  
  
"Yeah, I know, but I mean, there's advantages to it, too, I'm sure your parents wouldn't be so crazy about you having a boy stay in your room  _every single night_ ," he said.  
  
"No, no, definitely not, but I still wish you could meet them. Like,  _really_  meet them," Rowan said, managing a small smile. "I think they'd like you."  
  
"You'd want me to meet your parents?" he said, raising a brow but smiling as well.  
  
"Yeah, I mean, I'd love for you to be able to meet them and my friends and just… I wish you didn't have to be part of this entirely separate world," she said with a small shrug, her smile fading slightly.  
  
"You know what's really ridiculous?" he said.  
  
"You?" she replied.  
  
"Besides that."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Besides  _that."_  
  
"What?"  
  
"When we first met, you went from being afraid of me to being angry at me and  _tased me_ , and now you want me to  _meet your parents_  and miss me when I'm gone," he said with a smirk.  
  
"So you grew on me, you still deserved that," she said, smile creeping back to her face. Jack never liked when it was gone for long.  
  
"It was only a matter of time until my charm won you over," Jack shrugged.  
  
"Right, and what's  _your_  excuse for sticking around after I tased you?"  
  
"The stories, we've been over this," he laughed, leaning in a bit closer. "But you'd be surprised at what a pretty girl can get away with."  
  
"The same could be said for cute boys," she mumbled, leaning in as well. Just as their lips were about to make contact, the doorbell rang. Jack sighed dramatically as Rowan pulled away and got up from the couch, walking toward the front door.  
  
Shadow People, sewing projects, and now doorbells had all interrupted his attempts to enjoy his new girlfriend. It was as though the universe was just teasing him now, after two hundred and fifty years. He stood and walked to the door in time for her to hand the mail carrier back the electronic contraption that had collected her signature. She was then handed a fairly large package and bid a Happy Holidays by the carrier.  
  
"Lock that, will you?" Rowan asked Jack as she leaned against the door in order to close it before taking the box to the table and setting it down. He did as she asked before wandering back to where she stood. "I wonder what Uncle Tom sent, his packages aren't usually so heavy."  
  
"You have an Uncle Tom? Does he own a cabin?" Jack asked, joking.  
  
"No, but he is my dad's older brother, which makes him…" Rowan said, trailing off as though to allow Jack to figure it out for himself. His confusion lasted only as long as it took for him to glance down at the return address.  
  
"Tom Sawyer? Your uncle is  _Tom Sawyer?_  Why would your grandparents  _do_  that?" Jack said.  
  
"The story goes that they named him after my grandma's grandfather and didn't realize what they did until someone  _asked_  if they named him that on purpose," Rowan said with a slight roll of the eye. "It gets worse, though."  
  
"How can it get worse?"  
  
"He runs a small business for a living. A small, home painting business."  
  
Jack simply stared at Rowan in stunned silence for a moment. "So, people pay Tom Sawyer to paint their house."  
  
"Technically they pay Tom Sawyer to pay other people to paint their house," Rowan said.  
  
 _"Why would they do that?"_  
  
"Because no one reads anymore, Jack," she said with a small laugh. "Every now and again he gets a client that sees the reference and they think it's funny."  
  
"Tom Sawyer, that's awful, at least they didn't name your dad, 'Sid'," he said.  
  
"Nah, he lucked out. Though he was pretty disappointed when he realized he missed the opportunity to name me 'Veronica,'" she shrugged.  
  
"I like your name, lack of cult movie references and all," Jack said. "It suits you."  
  
"Well, thanks. You are just as much trouble as the name 'Jack' implies, but I guess that means it suits  _you."_  
  
"Have I at least proven that you  _can_  trust a Jack or are you just going to be suspicious of all of us?" he asked, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Who says I trust you?" she smiled.  
  
"Seriously?  _You did."_  
  
"Okay, okay, so there's one Jack on the long list," she said. "Like any of the other ones matter, right?"  
  
"True," he said, smug. "But before the doorbell rang-"  
  
"Right, right, we were right about here?" Rowan said, leaning in just close enough to tease at a  _possible_  kiss, her breath warm against his mouth. He tilted his head and leaned in as well.  
  
And then there was a knock, this time on the window.  
  
"Seriously?" Jack mumbled as Rowan turned to see who could possibly be knocking. When he glanced up, he found Tooth at the window, smiling sheepishly as she waved, a blonde woman standing nearby.  
  
"What's Tooth doing here?" Rowan asked.  
  
"No idea, but Erato's with her, must be important," Jack sighed. Rowan walked to the front door and unlocked it before pulling it open.  
  
"Are your parents around?" Tooth asked. "Should we meet you upstairs?"  
  
"No, no, they both left for the day," Rowan said, stepping aside so that the fairy could enter. Erato followed, lingering close as Rowan closed the door behind her.  
  
"Hello, Rowan, my name is Erato," said the tall woman with a warm smile. Her moonbeam, back now that the new moon had passed, trailed her nearby.  
  
"Love poetry, right?" Rowan asked, her nerves clear in her voice.  
  
"And erotic poetry, yes, very good," Erato said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."  
  
"Oh, you too," Rowan said, reaching out her hand to shake Erato's. Erato immediately shook her head in protest.  
  
"You are a Mortal Muse; that makes you my sister, and we do not  _shake_   _hands_ ," the Muse said, immediately pulling Rowan into her arms. The girl was still for a moment, clearly taken by surprise before gently hugging Erato back.  
  
"How are things going here, Jack?" Tooth asked as Erato released Rowan from her grasp.  
  
"Pretty well," he said, smiling nervously. It was the first time he'd seen Tooth since she admitted to having feelings for him. And now here she was and here Rowan was… this had the potential to be very uncomfortable.  
  
"Good, I'm glad. And I'm happy to hear that you two worked things out," Tooth said sincerely, easing Jack's mind if only a little.  
  
"Yeah, I guess Thalia told you?"  
  
"She told all of us. In rhyme," Erato said with a short nod. The single mini fairy that had been flying near Tooth approached Rowan and she cringed, backing away and shielding her face with her arm.  
  
"Oh, don't worry! I only brought Baby Tooth because I knew she'd behave," Tooth assured Rowan, who slowly lowered her arm to watch the fairy suspiciously. Jack walked over and extended his hand, which Baby Tooth happily landed on.  
  
"Hmm," Rowan said, curiosity taking over as she examined the small fairy. "They're cute when they're not prodding at you. Do they all have two different colored eyes?"  
  
"No, she's the only one with heterochromia. I've never been able to figure that out," Tooth said.  
  
"Genetics are strange, strange things. Particularly when magic interferes," Erato said. She pointed to her own fuchsia eyes. "My eyes weren't this color when I was alive, I'm not sure why Apollo made that change."  
  
Rowan set her hand beside Jack's and Baby Tooth climbed from one to the other, smiling pleasantly as Rowan took a closer look at her.  
  
"My eyes changed too," Jack commented. "Guess I never thought much about it."  
  
"Must have worked out better for our design," Erato shrugged.  
  
"What brings you guys by?" Rowan asked, eyes still fixed on Baby Tooth, who turned so that Rowan could better see her wings.  
  
"Yeah, is something wrong?" Jack said.  
  
"No-" Tooth started.  
  
"Yes, something is wrong," Erato said, walking around Jack, watching him critically. Jack was reminded once more of his first meeting with Rowan, how she had circled him to take in every small detail. "You're not wearing  _this_  to the first New Year's Eve Ball to happen in centuries."  
  
"We're on our way to see Arachne, Jack, we thought we'd stop by and ask you to come along," Tooth said.  
  
 _"Who_  is Arachne?" Jack asked.  
  
"The  _best_  seamstress, mortal or immortal, this world has ever seen! Do you think that these flashy outfits just happen?" Erato said, spreading her arms to draw attention to her outfit, which truly didn't need the added help. The corset she wore served only to exaggerate her hourglass figure, the skirt was lined with ruffles. She was like a burlesque star, glamorous and seductive.  
  
"I never gave it that much thought," Jack said. "No, wait, I never gave it  _any_  thought."  
  
"Which is why you need Arachne," Erato said.  
  
"You're welcome to come too, Rowan," Tooth said.  
  
"Oh, I'm already working on something as far as what I'm going to wear goes," Rowan said, gesturing to the sewing machine setup with her free hand. Tooth and Erato looked over and seemed a bit puzzled at the scraps of fabric haphazardly thrown about. "It's, uh, still in the beginning stages."  
  
"Can I see the sketch?" Erato said, pointing to the sketchbook on the table. Rowan nodded and the woman walked over to the book to take a better look.  
  
"Do you want to come along anyway?" Tooth asked. "It's very interesting to see her work."  
  
"Oh, no, that's okay, I don't want to disappear too much or my parents will start getting suspicious. Plus, I wanted to work on another project today," Rowan said.  
  
"What other project?" Jack asked.  
  
"Secret project," she replied.  
  
"We're much too early in this relationship to be having secrets," Jack sighed.  
  
"Women need their secrets, Jack," Erato said, setting the sketch back on the table. "I like your sketch, I'm really looking forward to seeing the dress when it's done."  
  
"Thank you," Rowan said. "But yeah, as much as I'd  _hate_  for you to tear him away from me…"  
  
"Oh, we'll bring him back by sundown, isn't he  _supposed_  to be spreading winter around during daylight anyway?" Tooth said.  
  
"Well, we had coffee and then I kind of… didn't leave," Jack said hesitantly. Yeah, he'd stuck around longer today, but it was _one_  day. And he had been hoping to spend time with Rowan without interruptions since her parents were gone.  
  
This was clearly not going to happen.  
  
"He's like a cat, you feed it once and it never goes away," Rowan said, shoving him playfully with her free hand.  
  
"Yeah I'm not here  _saving your life_  or anything," he said, shoving her back.  
  
"Coffee will stain your teeth," Tooth said, wincing slightly.  
  
"I'm sure he's still brushing and flossing and all that," Erato said. "And as fun it is to make fun of Jack and question why he's here and not making it snow somewhere … we need to go see Arachne."  
  
"Right, right, so are you coming, Jack?" Tooth asked.  
  
"Do I have a choice?" he asked.  
  
"Of course," Tooth said.  
  
"Not really," Erato said with a smile.  
  
"I can't… pay her or anything," he said. Being a Guardian didn't really pay well. Well, unless you were Tooth and hand your hands on some in-demand stocks, he supposed.  
  
"North took care of it, and she doesn't want you embarrassing the Mortal Muse, so, she probably would've done it for free anyway," Erato said. "She has a soft spot for us."  
  
"North took care of it?" Jack repeated, clearly confused. How did he take care of it? When did he  _have time?_  Christmas Eve was in a week!  
  
"Yes, now come on, she's very busy," said Erato.  
  
"Right, right… I'll um, I guess I'll see you later, Rowan," Jack said.  
  
"Have fun at your  _fitting_ ," Rowan said in a sing-song voice as Baby Tooth flew from her hand and rejoined Tooth.  
  
"I'm sure it'll be just  _great_ ," Jack sighed.  
  
"It'll be fine, she works fast, she just needs measurements and a chance to run some ideas by us, then we can leave," Tooth said, opening Rowan's front door again, where the dream cloud Erato would be taking was waiting for them.  
  
"So nice meeting you, we'll talk more at the ball if we don't see each other again before that," Erato said, pulling Rowan into a brief hug once more. "And uh, I saw on your sketch that you were thinking of adding a slit to the dress, I think you should. And rethink the straps. Go all out, what are you afraid of? And lastly…"  
  
Erato leaned in and whispered into Rowan's ear, leaving Jack and Tooth exchanging confused looks as Rowan's eyes widened and her cheeks turned red.  
  
"Okay? You're gonna be fine," Erato said with a smile and she leaned away from the girl, a hand on either one of her shoulders.  
  
"Thanks?" Rowan said, furrowing her brow. Erato stepped away and gracefully settled herself atop the dream cloud, followed quickly by Tooth.  
  
"What did she tell you?" Jack muttered as Rowan walked to the front door to see them out.  
  
"I'll, uh, tell you later," Rowan said. "See you tonight."  
  
"See you," Jack said, quickly pecking her on the lips as soon as he was certain both Tooth and Erato had their backs to them.  
  
"Let's head out!" Tooth said, gesturing Jack to follow as she and Erato started off, moonbeam following closely. Jack was quick to catch up with them, the wind picking up behind him and the sky quickly turning gray.  
  
"A blizzard  _now?_ " Erato groaned as it began to snow.  
  
"You guys  _said_  I needed to be spreading winter!" Jack laughed as the distance between them and the Sawyer residence grew and grew.

* * *

  
  
When they finally landed, it was outside a secluded cottage of odd design. It was shaped somewhat like a teardrop, but with twisting spines wrapped gracefully around it like a web. It was incredibly easy to miss, tucked away in the corner of a canyon somewhere forbidding.  
  
"Now, just remember, try not to stare," Tooth said to Jack as they approached. Erato stepped off the dream cloud and knocked shortly on the door. "She's a… little shocking at first."  
  
"I don't really think that anything can shock me at this point," Jack said. He was over three centuries old, after all. One would assume he'd seen basically everything.  
  
"If you say so," Tooth said with a small smile after exchanging glances with Baby Tooth. "Just try not to stare."  
  
The door to the cabin opened but slightly, as though whoever was inside was cautiously peeking out.  
  
"Hi, Arachne," Erato smiled. The door opened the rest of the way and in a flash, Erato was pulled inside, accompanied by an excited squeal. The moonbeam darted in after the Muse.  
  
"Era! I've been waiting for you, I have  _ideas!"_  
  
"Come on," Tooth said, flying through the door. Another excited squeal followed, making Jack unsure if he  _wanted_  to enter the cottage.  
  
"Toothiana! Oh, it's been too long, my dear, I know it's easier to move around in just your feathers but oh, how I love designing for you!"  
  
Jack hesitantly walked to the doorway and lingered there, glancing inside. The room was filled with rolls of fabric, sketches, partially-completed designs, and dress forms. There were cabinets with intricate designs carved into the wood, and the top of a spiral staircase that lead down below.  
  
But none of this commanded as much attention as the woman whose arms were securely around Tooth in a friendly embrace.  
  
All six of her arms.  
  
Jack was beginning to realize why Tooth had told him not to stare. The woman turned from Tooth, spying him in her doorway and approached him, watching him with critical eyes.  
  
Eight critical eyes.  
  
Her eyes were all a shining, inky black, as though the pupil had expanded across the entire orb. The two largest ones were where any person's eyes would be, and the other six were in sets of three along the upper edge of the main two. Each eye was situated behind its own round, heavily framed lens on her trendy, custom glasses.  
  
Her hair was fiery red. The bangs were cut bluntly and the rest was pulled back. When she finally smiled, despite his staring, her teeth were pointed.  
  
"Jack Frost," she said. "Don't just stand there, boy, come in," she said, gesturing to the inside of her cottage with her three left hands.  
  
"Right," Jack said, nodding slightly as he cautiously stepped inside.  
  
"My name is Arachne," she said, catching up to him and offering her one of her three right hands to shake. He hesitated slightly before shaking her hand. "I hear you need a tux."  
  
"So I'm told," he said.  
  
"Hmm," was all Arachne said before turning around and walking away from Jack. She began to sort through several drawers, arms and hands stretching every which way. Jack couldn't help but watch the back of her dress, as each of six scapulas moved beneath the fabric. Erato nudged him gently with her elbow and gave him a look as though to tell him to  _stop staring_. "Have your measurements changed any, ladies?"  
  
"Mine are the same," Erato said.  
  
"Mine too," Tooth said.  
  
"Good, good," Arachne said, turning back around and quickly approaching Jack, who took a step back instinctively.  
  
"Arms out, hold still," she said, hastily pulling a strip of measuring tape around his waist.  
  
"Whoa, what-" Jack started as the redhead leaned forward to examine the tape and quickly scribbled the number on a clipboard with two of her hands that were not currently occupied with measuring tape.  
  
"Hold still," she said again, using her two remaining hands to steady his arms and keep them spread to his sides. Erato and Tooth could be heard trying not to laugh at him in the background.  
  
"You are very skinny," she mumbled, sliding the tape around his throat.  
  
"Thank… you?" he said.  
  
"It's not a compliment, it's an observation," Arachne said, never meeting his eye but simply keeping close attention to her work. "You don't have to be thin to look good in clothes, you just need the  _right_  clothes, and that is where I come in, stand up straight."  
  
Jack was suddenly being pushed back against the nearby wall. "Stand up  _straight,"_  she said again and he sighed deeply before complying. She examined something on the wall before scribbling more onto her clipboard. Jack turned his head to the wall, curious about what she'd been looking at and found a ruler situated there. Arachne began measuring from his hip down.  
  
"Your calves are huge, it doesn't make any sense," she mumbled.  
  
"I can hear you," he said.  
  
"Well it's not as though it's a secret," Arachne said. "And it isn't an insult, it's an observation."  
  
"You'll learn quickly that most everything Arachne says is an observation," Erato laughed. "You do have chicken legs, though, like Clio."  
  
"Clio's calves aren't so large," Arachne said, finally stepping away from Jack and sliding her measuring tape around the back of her neck like an unfastened scarf for safe keeping. "But now I have all your measurements, on to the fun part, the  _design._ "  
  
"Oh, before we get to that, will you show me what you've got started for Cupid?" Erato asked.  
  
"He told me not to let you see," Arachne said with a small smile. "He said you'd try to make changes he didn't approve of."  
  
"I won't change anything, I just want to see," Erato said with a pout.  
  
"Cupid is one of my best clients, always such a fun challenge, what with his need for clothing to account for his  _wings_  and all. I'd  _hate_  to go behind his back like this," Arachne sighed, though the tone in her last statement was clearly sarcastic. She pushed open the nearby door and disappeared inside the next room for a moment, shuffling around before pushing out a covered dress form. She pulled the cover away to reveal an entirely black tux, with a red waistcoat and tie. The waistcoat was subtly embroidered with what seemed to be a cosmos theme. Stars, the sun, and the moon were all present, but easy to miss unless one was really looking for them.  
  
"Black, it's always black with him," Erato said, pulling off one of her long gloves so that she could reach forward to properly feel the fabric of the jacket. "You'd think it was for Mel."  
  
"She was in yesterday, she and that Boogeyman," Arachne said. "I always have such fun with dark fashion. And the black suits Cupid, no pun intended. It's…  _mysterious."_  
  
"Yes, well I like the red," Erato said, lightly tracing one of the designs on the waistcoat. "You do beautiful work, as always."  
  
"No unauthorized changes?" Arachne asked. Erato shook her head. "Very good."  
  
Stepping away from Cupid's suit, Arachne shuffled through her drawers again, pulling out a pad of paper and flipping through several pages before gesturing for the others to join her. Erato and Tooth stood on either side of the woman and Jack lingered close, but not  _too_  close. He still wasn't so sure about this entire situation. If someone had told him a year ago that he'd be getting fitted for a custom suit, created by a woman that was more spider than woman…  
  
Baby Tooth noticed his distance and fluttered over to his place, settling herself down on his shoulder. The two exchanged smiles as Tooth and Erato examined the sketches that Arachne already had prepared.  
  
"I love the challenge that comes with designing for you," Arachne said to Tooth, eyes still fixed on the page. "Because you don't want to take away from your natural beauty, all those wonderful feathers…"  
  
"It's the one night a year I dress up," Tooth smiled.  
  
Curiously, Jack found himself hovering a few inches above the ground in order to get a better look at the page the women were fussing over. It featured several simple sketches of Tooth, each wearing a different design, though all of them reminded him somewhat of saris.  
  
"I like the pink one," Tooth and Erato each said at once.  
  
"That one was my favorite, too," Arachne said, taking a nearby pencil and circling the design in question. She flipped through a few more pages, each consisting of designs for other mythical beings. Jack recognized Clio and Urania, as well as the leprechaun and several other beings before she stopped at a page with designs intended for Erato. They were all flashy, all various shades of red and deep purple. Plunging necklines, shimmering sequins, varying hemlines.  
  
"Not this one," Erato said, pointing to a sketch featuring a slit in a long skirt and a single shoulder strap. "The Mortal Muse is working on something smilar."  
  
"Oh, so I won't be designing for her?" Arachne said, taken by surprise. Jack could swear she seemed almost insulted.  
  
"She didn't know you were an option when she began her dress," Tooth said. "Remember, she's still learning about our world."  
  
"And she's learning it largely from Jack, so," Erato said with a shrug.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack said, taking his turn to be insulted, still hovering a few inches above the ground.  
  
"Just that you probably aren't filling her in on mythical fashion designers?" Erato said, cocking a brow at the boy.  _"So_  touchy, I'm not Melpomene."  
  
 _"Oh_ , this is the same Jack?" Arachne said, glancing his way as well. "I can see that."  
  
"Literally the  _last thing_  I want to talk about right now," Jack sighed.  
  
"If half of what I've heard is true, I'm not surprised," Arachne said.  
  
"Is there  _anyone_  that hasn't been filled in on this?" he mumbled rhetorically.  
  
"North. And  _maybe_  Aster, but I wouldn't put it past Terpsichore or Euterpe to tell him… and he has been spending all his time with Urania and Clio for the past week so he could have been filled in. Actually, yes, it's probably just North, Tsar Lunar definitely knows," Erato said.  
  
"Oh,  _good_ ," Jack said sarcastically.  
  
"But we weren't going to talk about this," Tooth said, pointing to the page. "I like the one with the boa."  
  
"Oh, I do too, I think I'll pick that one, can you throw a bit more red in?" Erato said, drawing Arachne's attention back to the page. Tooth offered Jack a soft smile, which he managed to return, thankful that she had forced a change in subject. He tried to remain composed, to hide just how much the fact that  _Bunny_  probably knew about what had happened bothered him.  
  
Not to mention, the fact that Erato hadn't told North  _surprised_  him. He was still unsure how to feel about that particular Muse. She had been absolutely decent lately, and he couldn't help but feel suspicious of her motives.  
  
"Get a new favorite color, Erato," Arachne smiled.  
  
"Find me a color with more passion than red, and I will," Erato replied as the redhead circled the design chosen. She set the pad of paper down and turned to fully face Jack again. Hesitantly, he returned to the ground.  
  
"Now, I don't have any sketches prepared for you," Arachne said. "Beside the fact that I didn't learn you were coming until this morning when Thalia showed up and recited a poem about it, this is the first I'm seeing you, getting a feel for your style…"  
  
She watched him for a moment in silence as Jack shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze. He was feeling an awful lot like a spectacle lately.  
  
"These frost designs," she said, gesturing to the frost that covered certain parts of his jacket and pants. "Are they part of the design or does this happen to everything you wear?"  
  
"It happens to whatever I wear," he said. She nodded.  
  
"I like them," she said. "They're organic, they have character, it's something to work  _with_ , not around."  
  
She walked around him before approaching another set of drawers and starting to shuffle through them. The drawers were filled with various fabric swatches.  
  
"With all the blue, my first instinct is orange," Arachne said, pulling a piece of fabric that was a bright, reddish orange from one of the drawers. She approached him again, holding the fabric beside his face and examining both in careful thought. Jack attempted not to make a face at the color.  
  
"He'll look like a traffic cone," Erato said.  
  
"You're right," Arachne said, returning to the drawer. "An orange suit would wear him,  _he_  needs to wear the suit."  
  
"What about more blue?" Tooth said.  
  
"I don't think entirely blue is the way to go, not with all his blue undertones in his skin and his blue eyes, we should help bring _attention_  to that, not compete with it, he's got fascinating eyes," Arachne said.  
  
"Was that one a compliment?" Jack asked.  
  
"Observation," Arachne said, sorting through the drawers. "I'll leave any gushing and comparing your eyes to the sea to the Mortal Muse, I think."  
  
"She's not about to recite poetry to me," Jack said, unable to help but laugh slightly at the idea.  
  
"Does Calliope think this one will make the transition?" Arachne asked, more to Erato than anyone else.  
  
Erato hesitated slightly, glancing back in Jack's direction before saying, "No. But isn't her decision to make."  
  
"What's your theory? What do you think she'd be the Muse of if she did transition? I know we all thought that Yelena would inspire mechanical design," Arachne said, still sorting through her drawers.  
  
"I don't know her well enough, do you have any theories, Jack?" Erato asked.  
  
"Children's stories, or illustration," he said, shifting his weight slightly. He didn't like thinking of whether or not Rowan would become an immortal. Part of him liked the idea, as long as he ignored the part where she had to die first. However, he couldn't ignore the fact that Rowan seemed terrified of the concept.  
  
But what  _were_  they supposed to do about the fact that she was mortal? His strategy so far had been to ignore this fact until such a point came that he no longer could.  
  
"That would be nice, we don't have anyone for that yet," Erato said. She turned back to Arachne. "But Jack's suit."  
  
"I know I can come up with something for him, I just… I'm drawing a blank right now," Arachne sighed, turning away from her drawers and watching the boy.  
  
"Need help?" Erato asked.  
  
"Oh, yes, yes," Arachne said, taking a few steps forward so that Erato could walk behind her. Jack and Tooth watched curiously as Erato set a hand to each side of Arachne's head and closed her eyes. She took a few deep, soothing breaths.  
  
"What's going on?" Jack asked Tooth in hushed tones.  
  
"She's bringing forward the ideas buried in Arachne's mind," Tooth said. "Inspiring her."  
  
"Not  _those_  ideas, Erato!" Arachne said, hastily grabbing the Muse's hands as her cheeks turned red.  
  
"Oops! Did I make you think something  _dirty,_  Arachne?" Erato said innocently, a mischievous grin on her face. "Who was it about? As though I don't already know."  
  
 _"Erato,"_  Arachne hissed.  
  
"I'm not apologizing, you're going to have fun with those thoughts later, I know it," Erato chuckled. "All right, though, let's try again."  
  
Arachne sighed, releasing Erato's hands so that they could attempt the process again. After a moment, Arachne's eyes seemed to light up and she stepped away from Erato and back to the drawers.  
  
 _"Charcoal_ ," she said. "Not black, definitely not black, it would be too harsh and too much like Cupid's but a dark  _charcoal_ should do nicely to add some contrast. We can still throw  _some_  blue in there. Perhaps in the waistcoat or the tie."  
  
She pulled a dark gray swatch from within the drawer and approached Jack again, holding the swatch beside his face.  
  
"Yes, I like that better," Erato said with a nod.  
  
"I do too," Tooth said. "What about you, Jack?"  
  
"I don't know anything about fashion," he said, shaking his head. "But I like it a lot better than the other one."  
  
"Can you put a frost pattern on this?" Arachne asked, holding the swatch in front of him rather than beside him. He reached forward and lightly touched the fabric, watching as the frost spread across the surface. Arachne brought the fabric closer to her to get a better look at it now that it was covered in the twirling designs.  
  
"I think this will look lovely… do you have any specifications for the design?"  
  
"I don't know anything about fashion, I just  _found_  this jacket one day," Jack said, gesturing to his hoodie. "So just, I guess, do what you think is best?"  
  
"Free reign, hm? I can certainly do that," Arachne said, smiling at the idea.  
  
"Should we leave you to your work?" Erato asked. "I know you have a lot of designs to finish before the ball."  
  
"Yes, yes, I believe I have everything," Arachne said, pulling the Muse into another hug. "It's always so good to see you."


	37. Doubt Truth To Be A Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a scene that is only slightly NSFW. Discussion of sex but no real sex (not yet, anyway).
> 
> Anyway, just another reminder that you guys should check out my ROTG Tumblr (link in my profile). I've got character designs/progress shots up there!

_"The most tragic stories start out so happily. Let them have their fun, Pitch, the closer they get the greater his fear of losing her will grow and the stronger you’ll get. This can’t last."_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Doubt Truth To Be A Liar**

* * *

  
  
Pitch watched as she walked, with such grace and power, her heels clicking against the stones and hips swaying just slightly as she went. She always walked with such purpose. He always liked the way she walked, though he wasn't one to tell her that.  
  
Her moonbeam followed her hesitantly. The one that had been assigned to him quickly rushed over to meet up with it. Greeting a familiar friend after being separated, being forced to be alone with the two least agreeable members of the alliance.  
  
"Hello again, Mel," Pitch said as she grew closer. "You disappeared today."  
  
Melpomene hadn't really left his side once the new moon had passed.  
  
"Even I like to see the sun  _sometimes,"_  Melpomene said, finally coming to a halt. "I was speaking with the others, they want me to ask you a few questions."  
  
"How do they know I won't lie?" Pitch asked. "In fact, how do they know  _you_  won't lie?"  
  
"Because it's part of the deal," Melpomene said, crossing her arms. "Because it'll keep all of us safe, you have no reason yet to lie."  
  
"I don't know that, I haven't heard the questions," he said with a smirk.  
  
"It's nothing about you, it's just a few things Jack ran by North that we need answers for," she said. "Have the Shadow People always been able to talk?"  
  
"Hmm," Pitch said, considering this for a moment. "I've never heard them speak myself, but I think I might have heard _something_  about that before. During each other phase of the moon, they're much like you, my dear, they bring insecurities and tragedies to the surface. The voices you hear in your head when they attack is simply your own voice, your own insecurities. But during the new moon… they can speak for themselves."  
  
"To manipulate further," Melpomene said.  
  
"Exactly," said Pitch.  
  
"Do they have a leader?"  
  
"Not to my knowledge, though I wouldn't be surprised with the way they've managed to organize themselves so efficiently, I don't know that they can do that on their own."  
  
"So you have  _no idea_  who could be calling the shots?" Melpomene asked, clearly suspicious.  
  
"What, you think it's me? Don't make me laugh, you're not the right Muse for that," Pitch said with a smile.  
  
"I know it isn't you," said the Muse, rolling her eyes. "Are there any other abilities that they get during the new moon?"  
  
"They may be more persuasive, they may even be able to mimic voices, I suppose it depends on whose spirits they've been feeding on recently," Pitch said with a shrug.  
  
"So if someone was able to resist them before, on the New Moon, it would be harder," Melpomene said, visibly nervous at the idea. She had, of course, been able to put up a fight against them when the moon was a bit more full.  
  
"Very likely," said Pitch.  
  
"The Mortal Muse used a taser against them and they backed off, do you know anything about that?"  
  
"They probably didn't know what it was and she frightened them," Pitch shrugged, growing quite bored with these questions. "I don't imagine it would work efficiently as a weapon against them in the future. Is there anything else?"  
  
"No, I think that's it. You're starting to look sick again, Pitch, I noticed when Arachne took your measurements, you've gotten thinner," Melpomene said, reaching forward and setting a hand to the side of his face, gently, warmly.  
  
"Don't inspire my misery," Pitch said bitterly, taking her hand in his and removing it from his face. "It was all working out so nicely, the Mortal Muse was  _so_  terrified of her feelings for Jack, but now…"  
  
"She's not afraid anymore now that they've made things official?" Melpomene asked, raising a brow. She didn't bother to respond to his comment about inspiring his misery. He was unsurprised by this.  
  
"She's still afraid, but not enough, he keeps replacing her fear with  _fun_ ," Pitch said, annoyance clear in his face as he turned to watch Rowan's corner of the globe. He had been doing just fine sitting and waiting for her fear to steadily trickle in but  _once again_ , Jack Frost had to interfere. "If anything, she's probably making  _him_  stronger now."  
  
"Interesting change of pace, but it can't last," Melpomene said. "Right?"  
  
"She has to die at some point if that's what you mean. I can't go give her a nightmare, not with the Sandman's barrier… unless you take me past it," Pitch said, glancing Melpomene's way. She could, after all, just disappear and re-appear beyond the barrier.  
  
"That's risky, and if the Sandman  _or_  Jack find out, they'll break the alliance just to make us pay," said the woman. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "And Calliope likely won't show me any sympathy."  
  
"As if she  _ever_  does. Whose side are you on?" Pitch asked, eying her critically. So many times she had spoken about her frustrations with the eldest Muse and the Guardians as a whole. She'd spoken of her delight at the irritation her relationship with him caused them.  
  
"It's not a matter of sides, Pitch, it's a matter of strategy. It's too risky right now. They're happy, they're probably going to be up all night, all over each other, there's no opportunity to get in there and do what we did before," Melpomene said.  
  
"You don't seem very bothered by the idea of another Muse growing close to him," Pitch said.  
  
"Why would I be?" she said, settling herself down on his throne, feigning boredom.  
  
"You spent an awful long time with the boy."  
  
"For how long our lives are, the years I spent with him are hardly 'an awful long time.' Besides, I thought that was something you didn't like to think about. The fact that you and Jack have both been with the same woman."  
  
"It's something  _you_  think about. But he isn't the only one. You think of all the men you've abused and you wonder if you'll ever be able to truly love  _anything_  again, because every time you start-"  
  
"Stop it," she snapped. Pitch couldn't help but smile. "I never loved Jack."  
  
"You started to," said Pitch. "But he'll never believe that."  
  
"I  _never_  loved him," Melpomene said, pulling herself back to her feet, careful to keep eye contact with the frail man. "You think you know so much, but you know fear, and when I was with him, I wasn't afraid. I thrived. But it wasn't love, it was never love. So why should I care that someone else may be falling for him?"  
  
"Because it makes you angry when others move on from their tragedies," Pitch said. "Because you never will."  
  
"Funny thing about tragedy," Melpomene said. "The world is full of it. I don't need Jack Frost to be miserable when there's plenty of other tragic souls out there. Now, I agreed to help manipulate him for you, it's true, and it was easy because of our past, but that was in order to get you a deal with the Guardians. And now you have it."  
  
"You know this is a tragedy in the making, she's going to die at some point, I don't understand why you don't want in on it now," Pitch said.  
  
"The most tragic stories start out so happily," she said. "Let them have their fun, Pitch, the closer they get the greater his fear of losing her will grow and the stronger you'll get. This can't last."  
  
"And in the meantime, what then?"  
  
"Well. She'll be at the ball. Everyone's guard will be down, I'd just be careful, whatever you do."

* * *

  
  
"So, how'd everything go with Arachne?" Rowan said, closing and locking her bedroom door after Jack wandered in behind her. The sun had been down for several hours now, but they hadn't actually had a chance to speak or really interact since he'd arrived thanks to her parents lurking around. It only increased Rowan's desire for her parents to be able to see and communicate with Jack. Basically ignoring him while they were around made her uneasy.  
  
"It was, uh, interesting. Having your measurements, and I mean  _all_  your measurements, taken is sort of uncomfortable," Jack said.  
  
"What was Arachne like? Was she like, a giant spider, or?" Rowan asked, clearly very interested. She'd read Arachne's story before and learning that she was yet another mythological being that  _actually existed_  was incredibly exciting.  
  
"She was like a regular person except for the whole, you know, four extra arms and six extra eyes thing," said Jack. "It, well, took some getting used to. Also, she doesn't give compliments or insults, she makes  _observations._ "  
  
Rowan's mind raced, trying to imagine such a thing. How did Arachne's extra arms attach to her body? Where were her extra eyes? Was she really more human than spider or was it the other way around?  
  
"Did you get to see any of her work?"  
  
"Yeah, it was nice. I mean, as far as I know. I could tell Cupid's suit was a suit, so," Jack shrugged.  
  
"Cupid's going to be there," Rowan sighed, sitting down on her bed at last. Cupid.  _The_  Cupid,  _the_  God of Love! Along with all the other Muses, probably Arachne, definitely the other Guardians. "Sometimes it hits me all over that this is all  _real_."  
  
"That's good though," Jack said, sitting beside her. "It's not any fun if you lose the wonder. Just don't get too star struck by Cupid."  
  
"Why, what's wrong with him?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Well,  _I'm_  much more attractive, for one thing," he said, posture improving as his expression became more smug than usual. She rolled her eyes. "Plus the first time I 'met' the guy, he basically knocked me out of the sky."  
  
"Was it on purpose?"  
  
"Don't know, don't care, I already got my revenge, so," Jack shrugged.  
  
"What did you do?"  
  
"Made him slip on the ice, almost broke his neck."  
  
 _"Jack."_  
  
"I said 'almost'!"  
  
"And you wonder why the other immortals don't like you."  
  
"I'm pretty sure he doesn't know I had anything to do with that."  
  
"You're ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.  
  
"No, you," he said with a yawn, leaning back against the comforter, staring at the ceiling. "Anyway, speaking of other immortals, what did  _Erato_  tell you before we left earlier?"  
  
Rowan could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. Honestly, the amount she found herself blushing and embarrassed around Jack was a little obscene. However, this time it wasn't as much his fault as it was the fact that Erato seemed to be able to tell a lot about a person's love life without being told.  
  
Erato had whispered quite a few things to Rowan before she had left earlier. And now Jack wanted her to repeat them. If she should be able to speak with anyone about what had been said, it should certainly be him. It was all about  _him._  
  
That didn't make her blush any less, however.  
  
"Well…" Rowan finally started, hesitating.  
  
"Oh it must have been good, look at how red you are," Jack teased. She groaned, covering her face with her hands before lying down beside him.  
  
"I'm not red," she protested from behind her hands. "You have no proof."  
  
Jack simply cocked a brow, turning to his side and reaching to pull one of her hands away from her still blushing face.  
  
"Come on, now you  _have_  to tell me."  
  
"She said…" Rowan said, pausing to sigh deeply, "She said that you'd uh, you'd like it if I bit your ear."  
  
It was something that had happened in her dream. She, of course, somehow managed to remember numerous details of  _this_ particular dream long after she woke up. This accomplished little besides leaving her blushing at random moments when she was reminded of an occurrence in said dream.  
  
Not to mention, even more thoughts of Jack that were quite simply not appropriate to utter aloud.  
  
Jack's eyes widened and he took his own turn blushing at this statement. "Oh," was all he said for a moment. "I don't know how I feel about her knowing that."  
  
"So you  _do_  like that, hm?" Rowan said, taking her turn to tease the boy.  
  
"Well- Yeah, okay, I won't tell you to stop if you decide to do it," he said with a slight smirk. "Is that all?"  
  
"Oh, I wish that was all," she groaned. "She said to be sure we were going to use protection because magical pregnancies are even more overwhelming and complicated than your run-of-the-mill mortal ones."  
  
"Wow, the Muses just assume that we jumped each others bones at the first opportunity, don't they?" Jack said. The two couldn't help but laugh slightly.  
  
"I guess. We've only been together for like, ten minutes. Plus with my parents around it's not like there's been much _opportunity_ ," Rowan said, rolling her eyes slightly. "Though to be fair, Erato implied that we  _would_  be jumping each others bones in the future, not that we currently were."  
  
"I guess there's that. Thalia basically asked if I was fertile the other day," Jack said, shaking his head at the memory.  
  
Rowan hesitated a moment before asking, "Well,  _are_  you?"  
  
"I have  _no_  idea," he said. Rowan supposed it wasn't something that often came up when you spent a few centuries on your own. "She made a point, I  _am_  basically a human icicle."  
  
"Yeah but maybe your sperm adapted to the colder conditions," Rowan shrugged. It made about as much sense as anything else she had learned since she found him in her apartment. Jack laughed at the idea. "I don't even know if  _I_  am, to be honest, maybe I inherited my mom's temperamental uterus. Didn't North and Yelena have a few kids?"  
  
"Five, mortals," Jack winced at the number. Rowan understood. The idea of being responsible for  _one_  child sort of terrified her at the moment. "But I mean, North and I aren't the same brand of immortal."  
  
"We should probably just operate under the assumption that you very well  _could_  get me pregnant, just to be safe," Rowan said, pulling three small sections of her hair into a braid and not quite looking him in the eye.  
  
Jack was silent for a moment, watching her curiously before saying, "Well. We would have to actually, you know,  _have sex_  for that to happen."  
  
"Yes, I hear that's how that works," Rowan said, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. They fell into silence, Rowan still fiddling with her hair.  
  
"Do you want to?" Jack finally asked.  
  
"What, like  _now?"_  Rowan asked, eying the boy in surprise.  
  
"No, like,  _in general,"_  he said quickly, averting his eyes.  
  
Silence again. Did Rowan want to take her relationship with Jack to that level?  
  
Yes, absolutely. There wasn't any question about it, honestly.  
  
Ever since she'd seen him without his jacket on, the thought had crossed her mind. The dream hadn't helped. The way his mouth felt and tasted whenever they'd kiss didn't help.  
  
The fact that she was a living, breathing person who was twenty years old and had an overactive imagination did not help. She had thought about him excessively when he wasn't around to see just the effect he had on her. When he wasn't around to see just how she dealt with these thoughts.  
  
This was all besides the fact that she liked him an obscene amount. That even  _talking_  to him made her heart swell. She missed him when he was gone and loved when he was there.  
  
But was she supposed to just  _tell_  him that? Her cheeks just continued to burn red. It seemed she had been silent for too long, as Jack said, "We don't have to, you know, if you don't want to."  
  
"No, no, I want to," she said hastily. He seemed slightly relieved as this statement passed her lips. "Sorry, it's just, you know, kind of put me on the spot there, I didn't want to seem… I don't know, desperate."  
  
"You're not desperate," he laughed.  _"I'm_  the one that's been in a two-hundred and fifty year dry spell." He paused a moment, seeming to suddenly realize the implications of what he'd just said. "Not that  _that's_  why I want to sleep with  _you_  or anything. _I'm_  not desperate, I just mean, if either of us  _would be-_ "  
  
"Jack," Rowan said, laughing slightly. "Let's just say we're  _both_  not desperate."  
  
"Sounds good," he said, smiling nervously.  
  
"So, I mean, maybe I'll, uh," she started, hesitating again. She sighed, forcing herself onward. If she wanted to do this with him, she should be able to  _talk_  about it with him, right? Why did everything have to be so awkward? "Maybe I'll, you know. Get some condoms. And we'll see what happens."  
  
"Couldn't hurt," he said.  
  
"Just as long as my mother doesn't find them and demand to know why I need them when I'm not dating anyone."  
  
"I'm sure you could find some way to continue to use your terrible Pilates cover story," he laughed.  
  
"They're  _Pilates_  condoms, Mother, you don't understand," Rowan said with a roll of the eye. "I really need a better cover."  
  
"You cold tell  _her_  about 'Jack Overland,'" he shrugged. "I mean, if that's the part she'd be upset over, does she know that you're not a virgin?"  
  
"Yeah, she knows. Dad knows too, but he thinks it was Danny because he  _probably_  would have killed Luke if we let him know what actually happened," Rowan sighed. "Not that he didn't threaten Danny, he did. Anyway, they'd want to meet you or at least see a picture, know what you're doing with your life…"  
  
"I'm taking a year off before I go to school to, uh, study sculpting," Jack said, flicking his wrist slightly to create a snowflake. "With an emphasis on ice."  
  
She smiled, laughing slightly as the snowflake hit her face, her anxiety immediately eased, if slightly. "How do I explain that you're an eighteen-year-old existing in this day and age without any social networking or a phone that can send me a picture to show them?"  
  
"I'm, uh, Amish," Jack said with a laugh. "I don't know, I'm broke as hell; I have no future. Your parents would be convinced you're dating me to piss them off."  
  
"You're a broke artist, taking a year between high school and college to, uh, save money  _for_  college and apply for scholarships," Rowan said.  
  
"That's believable, right?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"More so than Pilates."  
  
"Oh, shut up," she smiled, combing her fingers through the braid she'd just made, unraveling it.  
  
"We'll figure this out," he said, moving to lean over her, propping himself up on his elbows.  
  
 _Would_  they figure it out? This was part of why she was so apprehensive to start anything with him in the first place. The lying wasn't going to stop when it came to her parents and Jack's existence. There wasn't any other way. She couldn't merge these two aspects of her life together.  
  
There wasn't any way.  
  
So how long could they go before it became a huge problem instead of simply an inconvenience?  
  
He kissed her, reminding her just why she was doing this anyway. She was falling for him hard and there was no way around it. She kissed him back until his lips wandered down her neck, leaving frost in their wake.  
  
Rowan ran her fingers through his messy hair with a small smile before leaning over suddenly to bite at his ear.  
  
 _"Ouch!_  Shit, Rowan, I still need to use that later!"  
  
She couldn't help laughing. Here she was, trying to take some advice from the  _Muse of Love poetry_ , attempting to be even a _little bit_  sensual, but managed to mess it up by biting just a bit too hard. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."  
  
"I always end up getting hurt around you," he said, leaning up to look her in the eye, hand to his ear, though he was clearly trying not to laugh as well.  
  
"No you don't- Well, shit, yeah, I guess you do, don't you?"  
  
"Tased, multiple bumps to the head,  _fell off a car_ -"  
  
"I'm bad for your physical well-being, I guess," she said, still laughing.  
  
"You know what this means now, though?"  
  
"No, what?"  
  
"I'm going to  _have_  to get you back," he mumbled in her ear before  _gently_  biting at her neck. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply, contently.  
  
This meant more bite marks to hide, more lies to tell. And yet all she could do was crane her neck slightly to give him more room to do his work.

* * *

  
  
Melpomene lingered close to the entrance of Pitch's lair, leaving footprints in the snow as she paced, breath fogging before her. Being immortal, she could linger in the cold as long as she wanted without worrying about such things as frost bite or hypothermia. She still felt the cold but it was little more than just slightly uncomfortable.  
  
"Why'd he have to bring you up?" she mumbled, snowflakes gently hitting her face as she glanced up. Her moonbeam watched her from a distance, as though confused. "I didn't love you. You didn't love me, you might have thought you did but it was all based on lies. I was using you, using you from the very beginning, I-"  
  
She stopped short, holding her hands before her to catch the snowflakes, watching as they melted against her palms. "That isn't true. That's not true at all. I didn't want to hurt you. I never sought you out to hurt you. I knew you were a broken soul but I thought we could be broken together, that we could be friends… that someone might understand."  
  
Melpomene sighed. "Pitch is right, I did care about you. You weren't like the others; you still had hope. Things could still be okay for you. It made me think that maybe things could still be okay for me. But then I got a taste of your misery and I couldn't stop. It was like an addiction. I didn't care about hurting you anymore. I didn't care about  _you_  anymore.  
  
"And even now, when I'm around you, I get the strongest urge to inspire the insecurities deep inside you. It doesn't matter that I cared for you once, all I want is your suffering because it made me feel so alive," she said, eyes still on the falling snow. "I know that makes me exactly who you think I am, exactly who everyone thinks I am. I hate that person but I can't stop  _being_ that person, it's what I was brought back from the dead to be. I wanted to be close to you but I never even told you who I really was… because I didn't want you to decide who I was based on my title."  
  
She bit her lip. She'd never be able to say any of this to Jack directly. Pitch was right, he'd never believe she ever felt any kindness toward him, he'd never believe that she was even capable of it.  
  
Melpomene wasn't so sure of it herself. All her attempts seemed to end this way.  
  
"But in hiding that, I just managed to live up to my title, didn't I? I could try to inspire something else, of course I could, but I'll always be the Muse of Tragedy, and at the end of the day, that's what I'm best at. So I stick around the Boogie Man, La Llorona, the Horseman, every personification of death, the Edgar Allan Poes, the Shakespeares… because they expect nothing but that from me.  
  
"But you didn't know. So you didn't judge. You thought that we could be happy and so for a moment, so did I. But that's what makes it tragic, isn't it?" Melpomene said, the wind shifting her hair into her face. She pushed it away.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I tricked you and manipulated you. I'm sorry that I made your misery worse. Most of all, I'm sorry you'll never know how sorry I am."  
  
Melpomene jumped suddenly as a pair of hands suddenly rested at her shoulders. She turned to find Pitch standing behind her and wondered just how long he'd been lurking in the shadows before revealing himself. He seemed just a bit less frail than he had been before.  
  
"You should come back inside," said Pitch, his voice soft and smooth. "It's cold and dark out here."

* * *

  
  
Jack reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind Rowan's ear as she slept. She swatted at his hand, still sleeping, and he smiled. Carefully, Jack pulled away from her form, gently pulling his arm from beneath her and standing upright. He adjusted his jacket and took his staff, stepping toward her window, looking out at the dream sand barrier that still encircled the house.  
  
He glanced back at Rowan for only a moment before sliding the window open and stepping outside. He closed the window gently behind him before taking a seat out on the roof.  
  
He glanced up at the moon, still a ways away from being full, and frowned. "I know you never really talk back but you've been a decent listener over the years… what am I supposed to do about this?"  
  
Jack ran a hand over his hair, unable to help remembering the way she combed her fingers through it. "We were talking about taking things further and I absolutely want to, it's just that I don't want things to fall apart immediately after. I know how much it bothers her to lie to her family but there isn't anything I can do about it because  _I'm the reason she's lying._  All I can do is remind her of the fun we're having regardless. I mean, if I could meet her parents, if I could sit through the awkward interrogations, I would… but I'm invisible."  
  
He glanced at the flashing lights strung about the roof for a moment before refocusing on the moon. "I told her that we would be able to figure this out, but what if we can't? I just- it's been so long since I've had to deal with anything romantic and I like her  _so much_ , I wish I could do something to ease her mind about this, but I keep drawing a blank."  
  
Jack sighed. "I don't know, I guess I worry that she'll just decide I'm not worth the trouble and the lies."  
  
"I've put up with it so far."  
  
Jack jumped in surprise, glancing back to the window, which was now being pushed open so that Rowan could climb atop the sill, gently taking a seat. "You didn't close the window all the way, I could hear you," she said.  
  
Jack winced. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"Yes and no? I think I got confused because it was warmer all of a sudden and woke up," she said with a shrug. "If you and the moon are having a conversation, though-"  
  
"He never talks back," Jack said with a slight roll of the eye.  
  
Rowan nodded, combing her fingers through her hair as she watched him, neither of them speaking for a moment, Jack's eyes fixed on the dream sand.  
  
"It isn't your fault I have to lie," she said at last.  
  
"How is not my fault?" Jack said, raising a brow in confusion, turning away from the dream sand to face her properly again.  
  
"The fact that people can only see if they believe in you isn't your fault. The fact that Shadow People are trying to kill me isn't your fault. The fact that I'm the Mortal Muse isn't your fault," Rowan said. "The fact that me telling anyone the truth, that  _Jack Frost_  exists and I'm  _dating him,_  would probably result in my friends and family giving me some kind of intervention isn't your fault. It's just a result of the stupid situation."  
  
Jack frowned at the idea of Rowan being encouraged to seek psychological help because she believed him to be real. It was true, though, none of that was technically his fault. This didn't ease his mind much, however.  
  
"I'm not doing much to  _help_  the situation," Jack said. If anything his continued presence during daylight hours, insisting on taking her flying, and the marks he'd left on her neck were doing nothing but complicating things further.  
  
And his conscious had finally caught up with him about it. He was almost certain that whatever voice of reason he might have had before had been replaced by E. Aster Bunnymund, reminding him how awful of an idea this was. This was all why Rowan had initially rejected him, after all.  
  
He couldn't help the worry that he'd end up alone again. This was all still so new to him, having people in his life that actually cared and wanted him around. No matter how many times he told himself that it was irrational to think the Guardians would abandon him, there were still moments when he would be hit with the worry. Adding Rowan to the mix just added to the nerves.  
  
Most of the time he could ignore it and move right along with whatever else needed his attention.  
  
"Well neither am I," Rowan shrugged. "We already established that this is a terrible idea, remember?"  
  
"I remember." The worst idea, actually. But he liked her too much to go the logical route, the safe route.  
  
They hadn't even been together a week yet, he was such a hopeless  _sap._  He smiled slightly at this thought.  
  
"I'm going back to school in two weeks," she said. "Once I'm there, it'll be easier to keep this from my parents."  
  
"What about Shirley and everyone else?"  
  
"They'll be harder, I just have to keep insisting that your phone is a piece of shit that can't send me a picture and you live in another city. And if she thinks I'm making you up, well… I guess I'll deal with it."  
  
"Thought you hated keeping secrets from them."  
  
"I do, but I want to be with you more than I want to stop lying to them, and I'm not sure what that says about me at all… but it's true," Rowan said, pulling a small section of her hair into a braid nervously.  
  
"Really?" Jack asked.  
  
"Really," she said. "I'm falling for you pretty hard, that part  _is_  your fault."  
  
"I'll gladly take credit for that one," he smiled.  
  
"Of course you will," she said, rolling her eyes. "Come back inside?"  
  
Jack pulled himself to his feet and Rowan left the windowsill. When he climbed back inside, he found that she'd settled herself back in bed, seated upright and watching as he closed the window again.  
  
"Are you doing all right otherwise, Jack?" she asked as he propped his staff against the wall near her bed before settling down next to her. In the dim light he could tell she was concerned.  
  
"Remember how I told you that I'd rather spend a week enjoying what we have than the rest of my life wondering what would have happened?"  
  
She nodded. "We haven't even made it a week yet, it's ridiculous. If I were someone else, I'd tell us to knock it off, it hasn't even been a week. You can't  _possibly_  like them so much already."  
  
He smiled. The thought had crossed his mind as well, several times. "Well, I've been thinking, and I want more than a week," he said.  
  
"I'm okay with that," she said, lying back against the pillows finally. Jack did the same. She rested her head against his shoulder and lightly traced the frost on his jacket with her fingertip.  
  
"However long you'll keep me around," he said, sliding his arms around her.  
  
"I've got a lifetime," she mumbled, eyes closed. He was glad she couldn't see his face fall as he remembered this fact yet again.  
  
She was mortal. They only had her lifetime unless Apollo said otherwise.  
  
His grip on the girl tightened.  
  
 _Courting a mortal is a terrible idea._


	38. Christmas Eve

_"I know it’s like your natural state of being, but don’t worry so much. If either of us is going to embarrass the other, it’s going to be_ me _embarrassing you.”_

* * *

 

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Christmas Eve**

* * *

  
  
Christmas Eve meant several things that year: it meant that the predicted Mayan doomsday had passed and the world was still standing. It meant that everyone had managed another couple of days since the last scene without getting killed. It meant there were no more shopping days until Christmas, so every shopping mall in existence was currently a disaster and thousands of individuals were questioning their decision to work retail.  
  
Arguably most important of all, however, it meant that Clio, Urania, and Bunny should be returning at any moment.  
  
The previous week had passed quickly, as it always seemed to, as far as North was concerned. As much as he was eagerly awaiting the return of his friends, it was still his busiest night of the year, and he would have to be leaving to reach the first handful of countries expecting him soon.  
  
"They did say  _early_  Christmas Eve. I suppose if they aren't here soon, I'll just wait here for them while you're gone. I mean, if that's all right," Erato said. She seemed to be visiting with more frequency, though North couldn't say why.  
  
Well, he had an idea, but he shrugged it off as nonsense.  
  
"That would be fine, the yetis can handle it but you can, of course, communicate better. So much has happened since they've been gone," North said, taking a seat in his rolling chair.  
  
"It really has. How do you suppose Bunnymund is going to take the news about Jack and Rowan?" Erato asked.  
  
"Not well," North shook his head. "He told me to tell Jack about Yelena, so that perhaps he would rethink pursuing Rowan. I told him the story but…"  
  
"You couldn't just tell him not to do something that brought you so much joy," Erato said.  
  
"I did not have to strictly _encourage_  either," North said with a smile.  
  
"You big romantic," Erato teased. Before North could respond, however, movement could be heard past the doorway as the Yetis began rushing past frantically. North and Erato each cast each other knowing looks before following them.  
  
Elves ran for cover as Bunny landed, less than gracefully, on the platform near the globe. Clio touched down shortly after he did, gently setting down the large sacks she had in tow before rushing over to help the Pooka back upright.  
  
"You all right, Aster?" she asked.  
  
"I  _hate flying,_  I don't want to be airborne for another  _century_ ," he said, carefully steadying himself before haphazardly pressing the buttons on the wristband that Clio had provided him when they left initially.  
  
"You guys okay?" Urania asked, making what was perhaps the most graceful landing of the three.  
  
"Mostly," Bunny said. Clio rolled her eyes from behind her goggles before flipping the switch she assumed he was looking for. The large wings he wore immediately folded into themselves before tucking themselves neatly away, within the apparatus strapped to his back. He pulled off the goggles that Clio had let him borrow before sliding off the straps and handing Clio the entirety of her invention back to her.  
  
"There you are! How was the trip?" North said, walking to the platform.  
  
"You tell us, think this'll be enough stardust?" Urania said, gesturing to the bags they had each been dragging with them. Urania and Clio had each carried two, and the much larger Bunny had managed four, which hadn't helped his grace when landing whatsoever.  
  
"This is more than I could have hoped for!" North said with a laugh. "It should do quite nicely."  
  
"Urania, Clio!" came Erato's voice as she approached the landing, quickly pulling the other Muses into her arms.  
  
"What are you doing here, Erato?" Clio asked.  
  
"I wanted to be here when you landed, and I was visiting with Nicky before he went on his rounds," Erato replied.  
  
"Nicky?" Bunny repeated, glancing at North curiously. The man simply turned red, yet again. Clio and Urania couldn't help but giggle, slightly.  
  
"You've missed  _so much_ ," Erato said.  
  
"Oh? How'd the new moon go?" Urania asked.  
  
"Everyone got out of it just fine, the Mortal Muse was caught out after dark but Jack took care of it," North said.  
  
"Has he been  _behaving_  himself?" Bunny asked.  
  
"Oh, let  _me_  break it to them, North," Erato said. North sighed and nodded, bringing a grin to Erato's face. Bunny became visibly uneasy at the Muse's glee. "Jack Frost and the Mortal Muse are  _officially_  together."  
  
Urania and Clio gasped, though seemed delighted and eager to learn more about this bit of gossip, immediately demanding more details from Erato.  _"What?"_ was all Bunny managed to say, staring at the group with mouth agape before taking North by the arm and pulling him aside into semi-privacy.  
  
"You were  _supposed_ to tell him about Yelena," Bunny hissed. "You know nothing good can come out of this, the kid is  _going_  to get hurt."  
  
"I  _did,"_  North said. "But I cannot tell him not to be with her when I did the  _exact same thing_ , Bunny."  
  
"Yes you can! You know better now," said Bunny.  
  
"No, I can  _not._  You don't understand, I would do it  _all over again_ , I would go through the hurt  _all over again_ ," said North, his voice echoing through the pole. North was never good at speaking softly. The Muses ceased their own gossip in the corner to turn and watch. "I wouldn't change anything. Yes, Jack is going to get hurt, but he knows this and he is going to do it regardless of what we say."  
  
"I don't think he  _does_  know this, Mate, I don't think the severity of the situation has made itself  _clear_  to him, he hasn't had to deal with losing anyone in  _three hundred years._ "  
  
"Sandy died just this year," North reminded Bunny. "Jack mourned just as the rest of us did."  
  
"And he was back in a matter of days! When she dies, she isn't coming back! You spent  _centuries_  getting over Yelena! You were broken; you were without hope. We couldn't help you, and you know we tried. We just had to be there and try to support you while you put yourself back together, falling apart again every time one of your children followed her! I don't want to see him go through that!"  
  
The pole was entirely silent, the yetis having stopped their mad dashing to get the last minute preparations together, the elves even ceasing their mischief as all stopped to stare in North and Bunny's general direction. Tension was thick in the air as the pair stared each other down.  
  
"Get back to work!" North shouted, "It is Christmas Eve!"  
  
The yetis and elves immediately did as they were told, the Muses simply exchanged nervous glances. North turned back to Bunny. "I don't want to see him go through that either. But we cannot stop him. This is something he must learn on his own, and in the meantime, let them enjoy what they have."  
  
"This is going to be a disaster," Bunny said.  
  
"Most likely," North agreed. Bunny simply shook his head, clearly unamused.  
  
"In unrelated, much happier news," Erato said, attempting to change the subject. "The New Year's Eve Ball is back this year."  
  
"Really? Oh, we have to go see Arachne!" Clio said, eyes lighting up at the idea.  
  
"She's got both of your designs already started, they look  _great_ ," Erato said. A trio of elves rushed forward, each waving an envelope in front of the new arrivals. Clio leaned over to pick up the envelope, finding it addressed to Bunny. The one Urania held was addressed to Clio. Bunny approached the Muses yet again and the envelopes passed hands until each had the one actually addressed to them.  
  
"In the middle of everything else, you're throwing a party?" Bunny said, cocking a brow as he tore open his invitation.  
  
"It has been a trying year," North said. "We must remember to still celebrate the good."

* * *

  
  
Rowan pulled her bedroom window open at the sound of the knock and smiled as Jack entered, gracefully landing as always.  
  
"You're here early today," she said, gesturing to the horizon. The sun had barely begun going down. Jack simply shrugged.  
  
"It's the holidays," he said. "Merry Christmas Eve."  
  
"Merry Christmas Eve to you," Rowan smiled, swiftly kissing him on the lips before walking past him and back to her laptop computer, currently situated at her desk. It seemed she was in the middle of researching various sewing techniques. "I realized something today."  
  
"Oh yeah?" Jack asked, leaning over her to watch as she typed madly into the search engine.  
  
"Well, two things, actually," she elaborated. "About the ball. Everyone's going to be wearing Arachne's designs."  
  
"Well. Probably not  _everyone…_ " Bunny hardly wore anything, Sandy's clothes were made of sand…  
  
"She's been doing this for centuries, I've seen Erato's outfit and Urania and Calliope's. They're so detailed and well-designed. And those aren't even their formal attire! Everyone's going to be there in these fantastic hand-made fashions and I'm… I'm going to be wearing a craft project. Why didn't I realize this  _earlier?"_  Rowan said, groaning slightly at the thought, eyes still fixed on the screen. Jack reached forward and closed the computer gently.  
  
"Does this mean you changed your mind about redoing your dress?"  
  
"No, no, I've already come this far, I have to see it through. I'm just- I don't want to, I don't know, embarrass you. Or me," she sighed, turning in the chair to face him properly. "Like, 'oh, look at that mortal Jack Frost is with, bet she made  _that_  dress herself.'"  
  
"I know it's like your natural state of being, but don't worry so much. If either of us is going to embarrass the other, it's going to be  _me_  embarrassing  _you,"_  Jack assured her. "Because if you don't think I'm going to be out of place wearing a goddamn _suit_ , then…"  
  
"I don't think there's a man in existence that looks bad in a suit, Jack, I'm pretty sure it's scientifically impossible," Rowan said, seeming at least slightly at ease at his comments.  
  
"Yeah but my whole 'existence' is conditional, so," Jack shrugged. "It's going to be fine, they're going to have a lot more to focus on than your dress, I'm sure."  
  
"True, it's going to be a whole room full of legends and myths and gods and- I wonder if Apollo's going," Rowan said. The man in question was in charge of her fate; the idea must be incredibly terrifying. Jack suddenly found himself wondering if  _Manny_ were going to be there.  
  
"Is that the second thing you realized about the ball?" Jack asked. "The possibility of Apollo going?"  
  
"Well, no. There's probably gonna be, you know,  _dancing,"_  Rowan said, combing her fingers through her hair nervously.  
  
"Probably wouldn't be much of a ball without dancing," Jack shrugged.  
  
"The last time I tried slow dancing was for a father-daughter dance  _ages_  ago," Rowan said. "And it didn't end well. You've seen my dad, he falls over if he doesn't pay enough attention when he's  _walking_. I'm not much better, honestly."  
  
"Dancing's not hard, come on," Jack said, gesturing for her to stand up after propping his staff against her desk. She eyed him in confusion before slowly doing so, as though cautious.  
  
"You know how to dance?"  
  
"More or less, it's been a couple centuries, but I mean, you put your hand here," he said, taking one of her hands in his and setting it on his shoulder. He rested his hand on her waist. "And the other hand well, here," he continued, taking her free hand in his and simply holding it to the side.  
  
"Okay, but now we're just standing here," Rowan said.  
  
 _"Really?_  I had no idea," Jack said sarcastically. "Just, step with me okay? We're going in a square." He took a step to the side and she did the same. He stepped forward and she stepped back. To the other side. Back.  
  
"See, not hard," he said as he led her around the room clumsily, her eyes fixed on their feet as they went.  
  
"We're a mess, what are you even talking about?" Rowan said, stumbling slightly. He pulled her closer in an attempt to steady her.  
  
Also, just for the sake of pulling her closer.  
  
"We're passable," he said, "Worst comes to worst we can do the ridiculous high school 'not really dancing' dancing."  
  
"Um, what do you mean by that? Because every time I went to homecoming everyone was basically having sex on the dance floor," Rowan said, eying Jack nervously.  
  
"No, no, not that, like when they try to slow dance," Jack said, sliding both arms around her waist. "Now your arms around my neck," he said. She complied. "And now we just kind of sway a little and hope the chaperone doesn't notice how close we are," he said, resting his forehead against hers as they did just that. She laughed slightly.  
  
"Who would the chaperone be in our case?" she asked.  
  
"Bunny, probably," Jack sighed, remembering that the Pooka was coming back that day and he'd be seeing him tomorrow. He hoped the holiday would postpone any lecturing, at least for a while.  
  
"This is definitely easier," Rowan said as they continued to sway about her room.  
  
"See, we can handle a ball. Besides, if things get too bad, there should be liquor, so," Jack shrugged.  
  
"Hm, will Santa put me on the naughty list if I take any? I don't imagine the North Pole has a legal drinking age," Rowan said.  
  
"Honestly, if you haven't already switched lists just by dating me, I'd be surprised," Jack laughed. "If he says anything just point out you're old enough to drink in Russia, that should persuade him."  
  
"Good to know," she smiled, finally releasing her grip on him and taking a step back. "Thank you for the dance, sir."  
  
"My pleasure, Miss," Jack said, bowing to her dramatically. She laughed, offering him a curtsey in return.  
  
"Anyway, so it's Christmas Eve," Rowan said. "And, well, since you're here  _now_  and you're probably going to leave right away in the morning to see the Guardians..."  
  
She trailed off, opening the nearby drawer of her desk and pulling out a rectangular package, wrapped in holiday-themed paper and adorned with a red bow. "I guess I'll give this to you tonight," she said.  
  
"You got me a gift?" Jack said, taken aback. It was Christmas, gifts were usually part of the deal when it came to the occasion, but strange as it was, he hadn't really considered the notion of anyone getting something for  _him._  He'd spent a great part of the past week attempting to figure out what to give his new-found family for the holiday and hadn't even entertained the idea of the gift exchanges going the other way. It seemed silly now that he considered it.  
  
But then again, he hadn't properly celebrated Christmas in centuries.  
  
"Well, yeah," she said with a smile, holding it out to him. "I mean, it's nothing too flashy or anything but I hope you like it."  
  
He gently took the thin package from her hands, for a moment simply examining the wrapping and the black ink, which read, "Merry Christmas, Jack. From Rowan."  
  
"I have something for you, too," he said, looking up at her at last, sliding his hand into his front pocket and pulling out a small, wrapped box. Rowan smiled at the sight, taking it in her hands.  
  
"Open yours first," she said, taking a seat on her bed. He followed suit, turning the gift about in his hands for a moment before tearing at the paper, revealing a black picture frame. The frame held a colored pencil drawing, a portrait of him. His eyes were the obvious focal point, with the most attention to detail being paid there, several different shades of blue coming together.  
  
"This is great," Jack said with a smile. He had enjoyed the character sheet she'd created for the exhibition, but there was something that made him prefer this portrait. Perhaps it was the fact that she had more time to work on it or even that this one was specifically created for him. "Your 'secret' project?"  
  
Rowan nodded. "It's for the collection you've got started in your cabin, there was a significant lack of  _my_  work," she grinned. "Plus I still haven't shown you a lot of my sketches, I thought I'd  _finish_  something and give it to you, at least."  
  
"Don't tell the kids, but this one's my favorite," he said, thinking back to the drawings he'd collected over the past few months. He'd put this one on the shelf, he decided. With the mementos he'd received from the other Guardians.  
  
"Secret's safe with me," Rowan said.  
  
"Thank you," Jack said, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers but briefly.  
  
"You're welcome, Merry Christmas," she said. "Glad you like it."  
  
"I love it," he said, setting it atop her bedside table, covered in books, for safe-keeping. "Now, open yours."  
  
Rowan was gentle when tearing away the wrapping paper, as though unwilling to do much harm to it. Jack had to admit, the paper that North had lent him was far too nice for wrapping paper. Her careful unwrapping made him nervous, however.  
  
What if she didn't like it?  
  
When she finally set the paper aside, she was left holding a small, black, velvet box.  
  
"You're not proposing, are you?" she asked, eying him suspiciously.  
  
"Definitely not," Jack said with a slight smirk.  
  
"Good," she said, sighing in relief. He laughed slightly, pleased they were on the same page when it came to  _that._  She opened the box and her eyes lit up in surprise.  
  
"This is so pretty, Jack, how did you manage to get it?" she said, pulling the pendant from the box, fiddling with it for a moment to release the chain it was attached to from inside the box as well. The pendant was silver and shaped like a snowflake. The center featured a hexagonal cut blue topaz, while a few smaller versions of the stone, as well as some diamonds, served to accent other areas of the design.  
  
"North and the Yetis helped me make it," Jack said.  
  
"You  _made_  this? It looks professionally done! Here I thought you robbed a jeweler somewhere," she said, running her fingers along the stones. It was a logical conclusion, he supposed. It wasn't as though he had any money. He was relieved, however, to find that her reaction was largely positive.  
  
"I was lucky with the resources I had," he smiled. "Thankfully North let me use his materials and hell if I know where he got those gems from, I guess they're left over from his days as a bandit."  
  
"These are real, then?" Rowan said. Jack nodded. "Wow. I can't believe you did this, this is even my birth stone. I just... I can't believe someone made me something this nice."  
  
She unhooked the chain and slid her hands behind her neck, attempting to clasp it on her own. Jack stood and walked behind her, taking a seat again as he took the clasps from her struggling fingertips.  
  
"It's also made with stardust," he said, hooking the chain together and gently pulling away her hair that was caught beneath it. She turned to face him properly, adjusting the pendant as she went.  
  
"I thought there wasn't any left, aren't they due back today with more?" she asked.  
  
"North had a little left and I asked him if I could use it for this," he said. "It's not going to do you any good as a weapon, and it's not really much of a shield, either. But maybe if something happens with the Shadow People again, and I'll be doing everything possible to make sure  _nothing does_ , it can buy you some time."  
  
She glanced down, lightly touching the jewelry, which rested just about in front of her heart. "So, it's pretty  _and_  it's functional?"  
  
"Basically," Jack smiled. "In theory, I mean, it hasn't been tested."  
  
Rowan threw her arms around his neck, smile fixed on her face as she embraced him. "This is great, Jack, really, thank you so much."  
  
"You're welcome," he laughed, sliding his arms around her in return. "Merry Christmas, Rowan."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Jack," she said, pulling back enough to kiss him. His first attempt at Christmas seemed to be going all right, all things considered. He slid his tongue past her lips, pulling her closer if at all possible.  
  
The kisses were slow; they were gentle and sweet. She pulled away slightly, her breath coming in fog.  
  
"My parents are going to be wondering why I'm hiding in my room during Christmas Eve, soon," she whispered, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.  
  
"Just give me five more minutes," he smiled.  
  
However, as though on cue, Dot's voice could be heard from down the hall. "Rowan?" she called.  
  
Did Dorothy Sawyer have a special sense that told her to interrupt every time Jack wanted to make out with her daughter? It was the only logical explanation.  
  
The couple heard footsteps and Rowan hastily tucked her necklace inside her shirt while Jack stood from the spot and grabbed the paper that had wrapped his drawing, stuffing it in his pocket. He'd barely removed it from sight and snatched up his staff again before the bedroom door opened.  
  
"Yeah?" Rowan asked as Dot entered the room. The woman was wearing a terrible sweater adorned with a family of snowmen, each wearing their own terrible sweater. She sat beside her daughter, tucking away some of her bangs that had fallen into her face.  
  
"We're going to decorate cookies soon, and then your father insists on putting off those illegal fireworks despite my legal advice not to, so come downstairs soon," Dot said.  
  
"He really shouldn't set off those fireworks tonight," Rowan said, shaking her head.  
  
"He says it's so Santa will be able to find us," Dot sighed, rolling her eyes.  
  
"But he might  _hit_  Santa, that's the problem," Rowan said. Jack somehow doubted a firework could defeat North. Dot shook her head at her daughter's comment before stopping short and reaching forward.  
  
Before Rowan could properly react, Dot was pulling at the visible part of the chain to her necklace, revealing the snowflake pendant.  
  
"Now  _that's_  pretty, where did you get it?" Dot asked.  
  
"Uh..." Rowan started, casting a nervous glance toward Jack.  
  
"If you say Pilates, I  _swear,"_  Jack said, shaking his head. He honestly had no idea what she could tell her mother at this point that would actually make things better.  
  
"Ah-ha!" Dot said, leaning over and snatching something from the floor. Rowan and Jack each winced as they realized that it was the wrapping paper that had been encasing  _her_  gift. He hadn't noticed it on the floor when he'd hidden his.  
  
"To: Rowan, From: Jack," Dot said, reading the tag, still attached and intact. Jack wasn't sure what he expected, but Dot's eyes lighting up and eying her daughter in what seemed to be complete glee and curiosity was not one of them.  _"And who is Jack?"_  
  
"Jack Overland, you met me in Burgess," Jack said immediately. It had worked with Shirley, at least.  
  
"Jack Overland," Rowan said, biting her lip nervously. "I, uh, I met him when I was visiting Aunt Lorelei for Thanksgiving. He happened to be hanging around where the kids were all sledding."  
  
"Why haven't you mentioned anything about him before?" Dot asked.  
  
"I don't know, you and Dad would make a big fuss and I didn't think it was that big a deal," Rowan said, shrugging slightly.  
  
"He got you  _jewelry._   _He_  must think it's a big deal," Dot said, lightly taking the pendant in her hand and examining it. "How old is he, what's he like, what does he do?"  
  
"I'm eighteen, I'm charming as all hell, tell her what we came up with before," Jack said, taking a seat at Rowan's side not currently occupied by her mother.  
  
"He's eighteen," Rowan said.  
  
"Hm. You usually go for older boys," Dot pointed out. Jack tried to hold back a laugh.  
  
"Funny thing about that..." he said.  
  
"Yeah, well," Rowan shrugged, clearly struggling to keep a straight face with Jack's comments.  
  
"What's he like, what does he do?" Dot asked again.  
  
"He's… well, he's a lot of fun. He's really sarcastic, he's kind of arrogant but laughs along when I make fun of him for it. You wouldn't know it at first but he's  _really_  smart, and determined, and caring and-" Rowan said.  
  
"Handsome, you're leaving out handsome," Jack smiled. It would be a lie to say that he didn't enjoy hearing Rowan describe him in such a way.  
  
"Is he cute?" Dot asked.  
  
"Very cute, he's tall and he's got messy hair and pretty eyes and this  _stupid_  smirk," Rowan said, rolling her eyes slightly at the thought.  
  
"Show me a picture, pull up his Facebook or something, I want to see," Dot said, smiling.  
  
Rowan groaned, Jack winced. "I mean, that's another reason I didn't tell you and Dad, I knew you'd want to creep on him and he doesn't really  _do_  the social networking thing, so I don't really have any pictures."  
  
"Can't he send you one?" Dot asked.  
  
"His phone's busted so he's using an old brick of a phone now, no camera," Rowan said.  
  
"I think you're getting better at lying," Jack observed. Everything seemed at least  _somewhat_  plausible.  
  
"What does he do to be able to afford to give you something like this?" Dot asked, gesturing to the necklace. "But not replace his phone?"  
  
Shit, that was a bit of a plot hole, wasn't it? Why did Rowan's mother have to be a lawyer?  
  
"He's, um, he's taking a year between high school and college. You know, to save up. He sculpts, though, mostly ice sculptures, but he made me the necklace," Rowan said.  
  
"If he started selling these he could make enough money for school and a new phone in no time," Dot said.  
  
"Well, he doesn't usually have this kind of material," Rowan said.  
  
"My grandfather gave me the material," Jack said immediately.  
  
"His grandfather does some sculpting, too, he lent Jack the material to make the necklace for me. Otherwise he's, well, not really that well off, money-wise," Rowan said.  
  
"Has he applied for any scholarships?"  
  
"A few, it's a whole thing, you know. That's sort of why I gave him my number, actually, he saw my lanyard and started asking about my school, he's thinking of going there and wanted to ask me a few questions," Rowan said.  
  
"That's good," Jack said. "Makes me seem all responsible."  
  
"Is this why you've been acting so off lately? Because you've been hiding a boy from us?" Dot asked, cocking a brow.  
  
"YES," Jack said immediately. It had  _absolutely nothing_  to do with Shadow People trying to consume her soul or the fact that if she died in the right way she could become immortal. It was all to do with a secret boy (which was not actually a complete lie). "Go with that!"  
  
"Well, yeah, sort of," Rowan said, deciding that staring at her knees was a better option than staring her mother in the face right now. "I mean, I didn't know where it was going and I didn't want to tell you so that you  _and_  Shirley could constantly ask me, ' _So have you talked to Jack today?' 'How are things with you and Jack?' 'Are you two dating yet?'_  Like I just wanted to see how things would go. And besides, can you  _really_  blame me for not telling you about a boy?"  
  
"You can tell me  _anything_ , Roo," Dot said with a frown. "You usually  _do."_  
  
"Yeah, okay, that's why you were so supportive when I was dating Luke," Rowan sighed.  
  
"You saw how that ended," Dot said simply. Rowan winced.  
  
"That doesn't matter, you and Dad were constantly being jerks about it and couldn't stand to let me make my own mistakes. And then with Danny, I mean, you were so condescending and Dad made fun of him at every given opportunity," said Rowan.  
  
"I was  _not_  condescending," Dot said immediately.  
  
"You were too!" Rowan said, finally looking her mother in the eye again. Jack shifted uncomfortably. This conversation had taken a turn from "making up an elaborate cover story on the spot," to a potential mother-daughter argument rather quickly.  
  
"We just want what's best for you, so I don't appreciate you keeping some boy a secret from us,  _we're your parents_." Dot was clearly becoming more irritated as the conversation progressed. Rowan responded by becoming more defensive. Jack simply became more and more uncomfortable.  
  
"Yeah and you've made every dating experience I've had  _so much more difficult._  I love you guys, okay, but I didn't want to deal with all your criticism and your attempts to dictate my dating life-"  
  
"We do not try to dictate your dating life, we never once told you that you could not date Luke or Danny."  
  
"You just  _heavily implied_  that I shouldn't."  
  
"And didn't we turn out to be right?"  
  
"That is  _not the point_."  
  
"So what is it about this boy that had you so scared to let us know about him? Does he have a record or something?"  
  
"Yes, mother,  _yes,_  I am now dating a criminal," Rowan said sarcastically. Jack winced slightly, remembering that, technically, they had first met when he committed the crime of breaking and entering. He'd also taken her to another country illegally. And prompted her to break several traffic laws while escaping Shadow People. See also: Naughty List Record Holder. "You're not listening at all. I didn't want to tell you about him because regardless of what they're like, you and Dad end up being jerks about who I'm dating anyway."  
  
"You've dated two boys, how can you possibly come to that conclusion?"  
  
"Because they were completely different and you guys  _still_  didn't like either of them."  
  
"I liked Danny, I just didn't think he was very  _smart,"_  Dot said. Rowan sighed.  
  
"Look, mom, I like Jack a lot and I don't want to hear about how he doesn't have a future or how he's not a good match for me or any of that, okay? I'm sorry I kept this from you but I didn't want to start all that again when I wasn't even sure if our relationship was  _going_  anywhere," she said. Dot's expression softened, if slightly.  
  
"So you  _are_  dating him now, though?"  
  
"Yes. But I mean, it's a long distance thing, obviously, he's back in Burgess and I've been too busy to go see him again and he can't  _afford_  to come see me."  
  
Dot watched her daughter critically for a moment, Rowan shifting nervously under her mother's gaze.  
  
"Is he nice to you, Rowan?"  
  
"We argue sometimes but yeah, he's been good to me," she said. "He really likes my stories, I based a character off him…"  
  
"He's committed to going to school and getting a degree?"  
  
"Yes," she lied. Jack supposed if he was three hundred years younger and had the opportunity he might go to school. Maybe. Art school seemed like it might be more  _fun_  at least.  
  
But school  _was_  still full of hard work and deadlines.  
  
"And you're happy?"  
  
"Very happy," Rowan said, offering her mother a sincere smile. "I'm sorry I can't show you what he looks like and that I didn't mention anything earlier…"  
  
"Well, he's got to know  _someone_  with a camera, tell him to try to email you something, I'm curious now," Dot said.  
  
"Please don't do a background check or something," Rowan winced.  
  
"Jack Overland has to be a fairly common name, I doubt I'd be able to narrow it down," Dot smiled. "But get a picture, he's not getting off the hook that easily, and your father and I  _will_  be wanting to meet the boy next time we're in Burgess."  
  
"Right, I'll, uh, let him know," said Rowan.  
  
"Your father isn't going to be happy you were hiding this from us," said Dot.  
  
"You say that as though you're okay with it," Rowan said.  
  
"I'm not, but it's all in open now and it's Christmas so let's not be angry at each other, okay?"  
  
"Okay… are we telling Dad  _tonight_  then, or?"  
  
Dot paused, considering this for a moment. "Day after tomorrow, we'll tell him. Hide the necklace until then."  
  
"Deal," Rowan sighed.  
  
"All right, come downstairs in a minute," Dot said, pulling her daughter into a brief hug before pulling herself to her feet. She left the room, pulling the door closed behind her.  
  
"Well that was probably the most elaborate lie I've ever told in my life," Rowan sighed, leaning against Jack, seeming exhausted.  
  
"It was more of a half-truth," Jack said, sliding his arm around her shoulders. "Hopefully she'll be less suspicious of you, now, though."  
  
"There's just going to be more questions, unfortunately."  
  
"Well, you can always tell her I broke up with you if it gets to be too much," he suggested.  
  
"Why do  _you_  get to fake break up with  _me?"_  
  
He laughed. "I'm clearly the more assertive of the two of us."  
  
"I  _tased_  you."  
  
"And then failed to make me leave your apartment for another two hours."  
  
"Which clearly just says I have commitment issues, so."  
  
"Fine, fine,  _you_  can fake break up with  _me_. Shit, you're ridiculous."  
  
 _"You_  are much more ridiculous."

* * *

 


	39. It's Not A Fashion Statement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jacked the chapter title from my favorite MCR song because part of me will always be a fifteen-year-old goth kid. So, the full title would be, "It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's a Death Wish."

_"What’s going to happen, Jack? You’re going to go on being the secret boyfriend no one can see forever? While she grows old? What happens when she wants to settle down and have a husband and some kids? That’s not you."_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: It's Not A Fashion Statement**

* * *

  
  
It was the first Jack had seen of Bunny since he returned from his expedition with Urania and Clio. He seemed exhausted, if anything, constantly rubbing his eyes and yawning. Yet he still made it to the North Pole this fine Christmas Day, grinning and conversing with the others as they exchanged gifts.  
  
Bunny hadn't said much to Jack, however. He had to know what happened with Rowan by now. Was he saving some kind of lecture for later? Jack would honestly rather get it over-with.  
  
But then, Jack supposed that the others probably did not want to sit and listen as Jack tried to tell Bunny  _yet again_  that he couldn't tell him what to do. Particularly not during what was supposed to be a nice gathering for the holiday.  
  
He had forgotten how touchy social situations could be. How the hell was he supposed to make it through the ball next week?  
  
"Here, Bunny, Merry Christmas," Jack said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bundle of papers to hand to the other Guardian. Bunny cocked a brow, taking the papers from him.  
  
"... is this a homemade coupon book?" Bunny asked. He seemed to be trying not to laugh.  
  
"Well. Yeah. But don't judge too hard until you read what they're for," Jack said. Rowan had suggested it in jest the previous week, but when Jack couldn't think of an alternative, it seemed the best option.  
  
"'Jack Frost's silence for five minutes,' what's the asterisk say? 'Exasperated sighs and eye rolling still permitted'," Bunny read aloud before flipping to the next coupon in the small book. "'Jack Frost's vote in an Easter VS Christmas debate.' 'Present this coupon to keep Jack Frost from making an obvious joke.' 'One Blizzard-Free Easter.' 'One day free of Australia-related jokes (including kangaroo references and accent imitation).'"  
  
Bunny glanced up from the papers, amusement clear on his face. Jack smiled. "These are actually really nice, Mate," the Pooka said with a slight laugh. "Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome, use them wisely," Jack said with a short nod.  
  
"There is one more gift," North said, taking a small box and handing it to Jack. The boy eyed the gift curiously. It wasn't much bigger than the box he'd given Rowan but he somehow doubted North was giving him some kind of jewelry. He pulled at the ribbon and gently removed the lid.  
  
He couldn't help but laugh at the sight.  
  
"A lump of coal?" he said, taking the small black item from the box. The others laughed as well.  
  
"You are on naughty list!" North laughed.  
  
"I thought we were friends!"  
  
"Still on naughty list!"  
  
"Well, thank you, I'll cherish it always," Jack smiled, setting his coal back in the box before setting it down gently with his other gifts. Bunny had given everyone a generous package of chocolate eggs, which was evidently something he did each year. The chocolate was excellent, so excellent that Jack sort of feared that he would be unable to enjoy any other chocolate again.  
  
Sandy also had an annual tradition, it seemed, of giving everyone a small amount of dream sand that would guarantee a restful,  _dreamless_  sleep. North always looked forward to using it the night after Christmas, commenting that it truly was the most rested he felt all year. The sand was incredibly hard for Sandy to make, as preventing dreams was against his nature.  
  
Tooth had given everyone a memento of the past year. Jack had received a small toy sled: a reminder of the hand he had in knocking out Jamie's tooth and the following night in which he helped collect it.  
  
Jack had managed to put together something for each of the others. An ice sculpture of a mini-fairy for Tooth, an encyclopedia of fantastic sea creatures that Rowan had somehow acquired two copies of for Sandy, an elaborately designed sword crafted out of ice for North, and of course, Bunny's coupons.  
  
"Merry Christmas, my friends," North said with a yawn. "Come, let's have cookies."  
  
A few images flashed above Sandy's head, followed by a question mark.  
  
"Heh, yeah, you'd think you'd have had your fill last night," Bunny commented.  
  
"All that sugar is so terrible for your teeth," Tooth winced.  
  
North laughed. "My teeth and I are fine. Now, come, come, we have coffee and cookies." He began walking off toward another part of the pole, gesturing for the others to follow. Jack had barely taken a step in that general direction when Bunny set a paw to his shoulder to stop him.  
  
"We'll catch up," he said to the others, who each exchanged glances, Sandy unable to hide his roll of the eye, before they continued off.  
  
The pole was eerily quiet. The Yetis had Christmas Day off and were taking full advantage by sleeping late, save for the handful still guarding the outside of the pole. The Elves were no doubt wherever the coffee and cookies were. The other Guardians leaving them didn't help the uneasy silence at all.  
  
At least their conversation would be private?  
  
Jack turned back to Bunny and opened his mouth to speak before a scrap of paper was shoved into his hand. Confused, he glanced down, finding that it was one of the coupons that he'd just given Bunny, the one that guaranteed his silence for five minutes.  
  
"You've got to be  _kidding_  me," Jack said.  
  
"Ah-ah-ah," Bunny said, shaking his head and pointing to the coupon.  
  
"Fine, starting now," Jack said, glancing at the nearby clock.  
  
"I'm not even back on this planet for two full minutes before I hear that you've run off and started a relationship with the Mortal Muse? Seriously?" Bunny said. He was clearly annoyed, as was Jack. He knew what this conversation (if it could be called that since he was not permitted to speak) was going to consist of already, and he wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
"You've got me, Mate, you've made your point that what I say means absolutely nothing to you, so can you please just  _cut it out already?_  You're over three hundred years old, this whole 'rebellion' thing isn't cute," the older Guardian continued. Jack sighed, wishing desperately for this five minutes to hurry the hell up. The way he stared the other Guardian down, though, the way he shook his head had to at least  _imply_  what he was thinking.  
  
It wasn't like that. Well, not entirely. It was true; Jack took some satisfaction in the fact that he was directly disobeying essentially everything Bunny had told him in regards to Rowan. It didn't mean that what Bunny said didn't  _mean_  anything to him; he just didn't enjoy the notion of being bossed around after spending such a long time relying only on himself.  
  
Plus, dating Rowan had a lot more to do with liking Rowan than it did wanting to irritate Bunny.  
  
"This is all besides the fact that you've known this girl for what, maybe a month? That's nothing; you know that just as well as I do. Especially for how long we live," Bunny continued. All Jack could think was that the past month  _and_  these five minutes seemed to be much, much longer than they really were. "You've got to  _think_  for a minute here! You're getting into something with someone you  _barely know."_  
  
Jack watched Bunny with wide eyes, as though to say,  _are you serious?_  He needed to think about this? Right, because he hadn't done  _any_  of that. And barely knew her? Yeah, he didn't know anything about Rowan, sure.  
  
It wasn't like they had spent a great deal of their time together talking about basically  _everything._  No, no, Rowan Jean Sawyer was essentially a stranger.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you think you have it figured out, I'm sure, but nothing good is going to come out of this. Even if she  _is_  right for you, and it's certainly too early to make  _that_  call, then what? What's going to happen, Jack? You're going to go on being the secret boyfriend no one can see forever? While she grows old? What happens when she wants to settle down and have a husband and some kids? That's not you. You can't ever be part of her life, not really." Jack stepped away, taking a seat by the nearby window and choosing to glance outside at the snow rather than continue making eye contact with Bunny.  
  
Yeah, because he hadn't considered any of  _that_  either.  
  
"There's two ways this can go," Bunny continued very seriously. "Either she dies, and you're as broken and miserable as North was when Yelena went, or she'll move on and forget all about you before she has the chance."  
  
 _Those_  words stung. There had been so much talk about her dying, Rowan had worried so much about  _him_  forgetting  _her_  that the thought of her forgetting him hadn't occurred to him at all. He reminded himself that she had said she never could forget him, but he'd seen so many people grow old. He'd seen so many whose minds began to slip and whose memories began to fade.  
  
The idea of her spending her life with someone else hurt. The idea of her having a family, growing old, and  _being_  with someone else hurt.  
  
Marriage was a piece of paper and he knew that the last thing he should be responsible for was a child, and right now Rowan wanted neither of these things.  
  
But if she did later, that bedroom window would be forever locked to him.  
  
"Jack, I don't want to see you get hurt. Mortals have their place, we watch over them and they give us strength. But getting attached  _never_  ends well. And now, in this day and age, where science explains away everything, we can coexist even less than a few centuries ago. She's walking a thin line between our two worlds but at the end of the day she belongs in the  _mortal_ world, and you belong over here with us."  
  
Bunny took a seat beside Jack, whose eyes were still fixed on the window. He and Rowan almost didn't get together in the first place because of the very reasons Bunny listed. Every now and again they crept back into his mind and his strategy had been to ignore it.  
  
Not the best strategy but Jack Frost was not exactly  _good_  at dealing with the intricate complications that came with relationships.  
  
"There's a small chance she could become a Muse, of course," Bunny said reluctantly. "And if that happens, I suppose I'll have to take back everything I said."  
  
Jack finally glanced back at Bunny, cocking a brow in confusion. Why wasn't he trying to tell him that Rowan probably wouldn't make the transition? That if Yelena hadn't, Rowan certainly wouldn't? That there wasn't any chance of Rowan becoming immortal?  
  
"What?" Bunny said in response to Jack's bewilderment. "I'm the Guardian of  _Hope_ , okay? I'm not going to tell you that there's _absolutely no chance_  that she could end up immortal. But it  _is_  slim, Jack. The Muses will hardly say a bad word about him, but Apollo's a mongrel a lot of the time. I just want you to be realistic."  
  
Jack frowned before running his index finger across his throat.  
  
"Yeah, that's another thing," Bunny said. "Whether she becomes immortal or not, she's going to die at some point. That much is guaranteed. You're going to have to watch this girl die, Jack, and when she goes, she might be gone forever."  
  
"Five minutes is up," Jack said.  
  
"Fine, then, I've said my piece," replied Bunny.  
  
"So what exactly is it you want me to do, break things off?" Jack said, returning his gaze to the window.  
  
"It would be the safest route but you're not going to do that," Bunny sighed.  
  
"Nope," said Jack.  
  
"I just want you to  _think_  about this for a minute. Why you're doing it and what exactly you're accomplishing."  
  
"I  _have_  thought about this. Do you really think there haven't been moments when I'm with her and I remember that our time together is limited? I don't  _want_  to be cautious. I want to enjoy the time we have."  
  
"And when that time is up?"  
  
"I'll deal with that when it happens," Jack mumbled.  
  
"The girl's not worth all this trouble, Mate."  
  
"You don't know her."  
  
"You  _barely_  know her."  
  
"How can you make that call when you haven't been around for two weeks?"  
  
" _Because it's only been two weeks."_  
  
Jack pulled himself to his feet and met Bunny's eyes again, frowning. "Look, all I'm saying is that everyone seems really eager to make judgments on my relationship when none of you know anything about it. You're jumping back and forth between us not knowing each other at all and being close enough for her death to completely destroy me. North keeps bringing up Yelena like Rowan and I are going to get  _married_  and be just like they were. The Muses all assume I've taken this as an opportunity to get a pretty girl in bed."  
  
"Jack-" Bunny started.  
  
" _I am the one_  that has spent any time with her. The rest of you are  _afraid_  of her, because you don't want to make any attachments, and that's your call to make for yourselves,  _not for me._  It's the same with the kids."  
  
"You think you know so much, you're still so young, three hundred years for us is  _nothing-"_  
  
"Don't you dare reduce the past three centuries to  _nothing_."  
  
"There you are again, are you just going to keep turning this into Jack Frost versus the rest of the world? What do we have to do to make it clear that we're on  _your side?_  I just don't want you to get hurt,  _why haven't you figured that out?"_  
  
"Not being with her is going to hurt, why haven't you figured  _that_  out?"  
  
"And when she dies? Then what? Stop ignoring this, it's  _going to happen_ , whether you want it to or not."  
  
"Then at least I'll have the memories, then… then at least I won't regret  _not_  being with her," Jack said, hurt clear in his voice as the thought of her being gone forever consumed his mind again.  
  
"Why did you go through with this?" Bunny asked, watching the boy with concern as his tone of voice changed. "After such a short amount of time? Knowing everything that can go wrong? What is it about this girl that makes  _memories_  worth all this?"  
  
Jack didn't answer. What was he supposed to say? This whole relationship had started with an agreement that it was an awful idea that they were going to go through with anyway.  
  
"You're falling in love with her, aren't you?"  
  
Jack looked up at the other Guardian in surprise. "Falling in love with her?" he repeated.  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"I don't know, I've never- I mean- Look, it doesn't matter, okay? This is my 'mistake' to make and I'm going to take advantage of the time I've got with her. There's nothing you can say."  
  
"I'm starting to get that, yeah," Bunny said.  
  
"Took you long enough."  
  
"I'm really  _not_  trying to be actively against you, you know," Bunny said.  
  
"I know," Jack admitted.  
  
"You make it hard sometimes."  
  
"I know that, too."  
  
"I certainly hope she's worth the trouble."  
  
"She is."  
  
Bunny sighed. "Come on, then, we're just going to keep going in circles, let's meet up with the others."  
  
"Merry goddamn Christmas."

* * *

  
  
New Year's Eve was finally upon them and if the sporadic snowstorms didn't give away Jack's nerves, nothing did. He was making his rounds early today, as it was already January in some parts of the world and the ball was underway. North assured him that most people didn't bother showing up until about half the world had already celebrated. The "sunset" time frame given in the invitation had been vague on purpose.  
  
"This is going to be a disaster," he mumbled to himself as he landed near his cabin. "This is going to be- there's going to be so many  _people_  and creatures and why did I think I could do this?"  
  
He shook his head, approaching the door rather than the window like he usually did. "I'm the Guardian of Fun, this is a  _party_ , I can handle this… I can… I certainly can handle this. Why not?"  
  
In front of the door were three packages, leaving Jack stopping short and staring at the boxes in confusion. One was topped with a bow and wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. The other two, however, were stamped with the image of a black widow.  
  
Jack brushed snow off the boxes before picking them up and entering the cabin, gently taking a seat atop the mattress. Tearing at the wrapping paper, he found the small box contained one of North's snow globes and a note.  
  
" _Jack, I doubt Miss Sawyer wants to fly all the way here, please make use of this tonight. –North,"_  Jack said, reading the note aloud. He smirked, knowing Rowan didn't exactly have the hang of landing upright when using the portals either. He set the snow globe aside.  
  
Taking the first package with the spider stamped on top, Jack carefully pulled the lid away and glanced inside, finding a neatly folded and pressed suit. Reaching forward, he gently touched the fabric, finding it to be quite soft. A tug at one of the hems proved it sturdy.  
  
He sighed setting the box aside before glancing down at his hoodie. He'd had it for a while now and was quite attached. No matter what the time period, he'd never really worn anything this nice. It had always been whatever was considered very casual for the time.  
  
"It's only for a little while," he mumbled, bringing himself back to his feet and pulling the jacket over his head. He fumbled with his belt, setting it aside before carefully removing the pants he'd had for even longer than the sweatshirt.  
  
He hesitantly took the charcoal grey trousers from the box and pulled them on carefully, as though the fabric would realize he was not the sort of person that usually wore suits and revolt. When they did not, Jack took the provided matching belt and slid it through the loops, fastening it.  
  
He fumbled with the buttons on the white dress shirt, followed by the blue waistcoat. Once he pulled the jacket on, frost quickly appearing along the shoulders and collar, he glanced into the box and frowned at the sight of the blue tie.  
  
Jack Frost didn't have the foggiest idea how to tie a necktie. He realized with great disappointment it had  _been_  tied around the collar of the shirt, but he'd pulled it off in order to put the shirt on. At least he had the sense to leave the cufflinks attached. These featured meticulously carved snowflakes.  
  
He stuffed the tie into his trouser pocket, deciding he'd deal with it later. He set aside the box and glanced at the other one, puzzled.  
  
What else could Arachne possibly have delivered?  
  
Opening the box, he was taken aback by what he found. It was a pair of socks and shoes, unlaced. Jack had never much been a fan of shoes, even before he became Jack Frost. His eyes darted between the shoes and his bare feet, very much conflicted.  
  
His first instinct was not to wear them. Why should he?  
  
But he somehow felt that it might offend Arachne and that was probably a bad idea. He supposed he might as well commit to this suit nonsense entirely. Go big or go home, as they say.  
  
He sighed dramatically, taking a seat again before pulling on the socks and then the shoes, which left him pausing again, examining the laces.  
  
"Shit," he mumbled to himself. It had been at least three centuries since he'd worn shoes, and when he had they had buckles. Even if he  _had_  worn boots with laces, it had been so long-  
  
"I am three hundred and eighteen years old," Jack mumbled. "And I don't know how to tie shoe laces."  
  
Rowan had certainly picked a winner, hadn't she?  
  
"I can figure this out, I can figure this out," he mumbled. How many children had he seen tying their shoes or teaching younger siblings to do the same? There were so many rhymes, so many tricks to remember how-  
  
He had no idea what he was doing.  
  
"Shit," he said again.  
  
Jack gathered together the clothes he'd discarded and stuffed the snow globe into the jacket pocket. Slipping off the shoes, as they'd fall off without the laces tied anyway, he held them loosely in the hand that cradled his other clothes before taking his staff and flying straight out the window. Even just wearing the socks was weird. Jack wasn't sure he liked it.  
  
Actually, no, Jack was  _certain_  he didn't like it.  
  
He wasn't flying long before he found Jamie Bennett's bedroom window and knocked, after glancing inside and confirming he was there.  
  
The boy opened the window with a grin, though immediately became puzzled at the sight of Jack.  
  
"Hi, Jack. How come you're dressed so fancy?" the boy asked.  
  
"That's not important. Do you know how to tie shoe laces?"  
  
"Yes?" Jamie said suspiciously, as though this certainly had to be a trick question.  
  
"I need your help, then," Jack said, holding up the shoes and landing inside Jamie's room.  
  
"You don't know how to tie your shoes?" Jamie said with a smile, very clearly attempting not to laugh. "Why are you wearing all that anyway?"  
  
"I haven't worn shoes in three hundred years," Jack sighed.  
  
"But you have to know how to tie other things, right?"  
  
"I haven't had to!"  
  
Jamie finally let out the laughter he'd been holding in. The older boy frowned.  
  
"Are you going to help me?"  
  
"Okay, okay," Jamie said, "Put them on first."  
  
Jack did as he was told before sitting down at the windowsill as Jamie kneeled down to reach the laces. "Thanks."  
  
"So why are you dressed so fancy?" Jamie asked again, pulling the laces tight.  
  
"Because North's throwing this big formal thing for New Year's," Jack said. "I don't really want to go, there's supposed to be  _so many_  people, it kind of makes me nervous."  
  
"Like other legends?" Jamie said, his eyes lighting up much the same way Rowan's had when she'd gotten her invitation. Jack smiled.  
  
"Yeah," he nodded as the boy finished one shoe and turned his attention to the other.  
  
"I wish I could go," Jamie said.  
  
"If I didn't think it was going to be full of drunks, I'd bring you along, kiddo," Jack said. He was certain, based only on the bit of the guest list he knew, that it was not a place for children. Particularly not if Melpomene was bringing along Pitch.  
  
"Tell me about it when you come back," Jamie said, standing upright now that Jack's shoes were tied. Jack stood as well, cautiously walking around the room. His feet felt strangely heavy and confined. His steps were uneasy.  
  
"I will," Jack said. "Thanks for the help. You don't happen to know how to tie a necktie, do you?"  
  
"No, sorry," Jamie said, shaking his head. Jack would have to figure that one out later, he supposed. Or perhaps Rowan would look it up online for him when he went to pick her up. "Why do you have your other clothes with you?"  
  
"Was going to leave them with your cousin so I had something to change into after," Jack said. He didn't want to be in this suit for longer than necessary.  
  
"Is she going with you?" Jamie asked.  
  
"Yeah, but her parents don't know, so," Jack said, setting a finger to his lips.  
  
"Right," Jamie nodded. Jack was suddenly aware that Rowan wasn't the only member of her family keeping quite a few secrets about him. It was different for kids Jamie's age, though. It would be shrugged off as overactive imagination if he talked about "Jack Frost." Rowan would be told to seek help. "Is this like, a date?"  
  
"I guess," Jack said, realizing he hadn't actually properly taken Rowan out. He would have to bring her along to something less formal later on, he decided. This wasn't exactly his first choice for a good time.  
  
But he knew she was looking forward to it, and North was looking forward to them coming, at least for a while.  
  
"Aunt Dot called my mom and said that Rowan had a new boyfriend," Jamie said, making a face.  
  
"Yeah, that would be me," Jack said with a slight laugh.  
  
"Well, don't be all… gross and stuff at the party," Jamie said. Jack laughed again.  
  
"Don't worry," he chuckled.  
  
"Okay," Jamie said. "Tell Rowan her New Year's resolution should be to finish her story!"  
  
"I will," Jack nodded. "I'd better get going, though, Kiddo."  
  
"Okay. Oh! And thanks for the Christmas blizzard."  
  
"You're welcome," Jack said, stepping atop the windowsill again, slipping slightly as he overestimated the traction his shoes had. "Oh, this is going to be a disaster."  
  
Jamie laughed. "Bye, Jack!"  
  
"See ya, Jamie!"

* * *

  
  
Jack landed uneasy on the ledge of Rowan's window, slipping slightly again and cursing the shoes under his breath. He knocked on the window, whose curtains were closed, hoping she was inside. He waited for a moment, and was about to knock again when she pulled the curtain aside and unlocked the window to let him in.  
  
"Hi Jack, I'll be ready soon, I got a late start, my parents came back  _twice_  after they left," Rowan said with a frustrated sigh as he stepped inside. He turned around to get a better look at her and felt his cheeks go warm. She was wearing a tight, lace-lined black dress that was dangerously short and had a single, thin strap going over her right shoulder.  
  
"Are you okay?" Rowan asked. His eyes, which had been wandering further and further down (had her legs always been so long or did the short skirt just make them  _look_  that way?), immediately shot up to her face.  
  
"I'm great," he said, smiling nervously.  
  
"You look really nice, didn't I tell you that no one looked bad in a suit?" she smiled, reaching forward and running her fingers over the jacket collar. "It's so nicely made. I bet Arachne weaved it all by hand, too."  
  
"Thanks," Jack said, shrugging slightly. "You look nice, too, I wasn't expecting you to turn that dress into, well,  _this._  The last time I saw it, it was still blue. And longer."  
  
Rowan looked at him quizzically before glancing down at her outfit and then back up at him. "Jack, this isn't my dress, it barely covers my ass."  
  
It was Jack's turn to be confused. "Then, what…?"  
  
"That's the dress," Rowan said, pointing to the garment hanging from her closet door. Jack turned to see the long, flowing gown. The top was still the lighter blue the dress had started out as, but quickly faded down into a darker blue that Rowan had dyed by hand. The right side had a strap, and the left side a slit in the skirt. It was no longer the fluffy monstrosity of a prom dress it once was, but was instead form fitting and elegant. "This is the slip I'm wearing  _under_  the dress."  
  
He turned back to face her again, realizing all at once that the top portion of what she wore was meant to act as some kind of bra.  _"Oh_ ," he said, brow furrowed. "That- Okay, I guess that makes a lot more sense."  
  
"I mean, I appreciate that you weren't about to kick up a fuss about me wearing this," Rowan said with a small smile.  
  
"Who am I to tell you not to go to a ball in your underwear- wait, you're in your underwear. Do you want me to leave? I can wait in another room," Jack said, suddenly doing everything possible not to glance back in Rowan's direction, cheeks burning again.  
  
"You're fine, I'm covered, aren't I?" Rowan said. "Unless your 18th-century upbringing's got you feeling all kinds of improper."  
  
"We passed 'improper' ages ago," Jack smirked, finally glancing her way again when it was clear she wasn't angry at him for looking. She smiled, returning to her desk and sitting down. She carefully handled a tube of liquid eyeliner and began applying it with the aid of the small makeup mirror on the desk's surface.  
  
Jack took a seat atop her bed, setting his clothes he'd brought with him beside him. His eyes trailed down her spine to the clasps on the back of the uppermost part of the slip.  
  
"I figured as much, you're awfully grabby," Rowan commented.  
  
"You started it," he retorted.  
  
"Pretty sure you did," she said, unable to hide her smile as she finished up her eyeliner on the other eye. "Did your suit not come with a tie?"  
  
"Oh, that," Jack said, pulling the necktie from his pocket. "I kind of… don't know how to tie it."  
  
"Seriously?" she asked, seeming surprised. Or maybe that's just how she looked when she curled her eyelashes.  
  
"Well I've never really needed to wear one," he said with a slight shrug.  
  
"That makes sense. I'll tie it for you, give me a second," Rowan said, carefully brushing mascara onto her eyelashes.  
  
"I was just going to ask you to look up a diagram or something," Jack said. After another few seconds, Rowan set the mascara wand aside and walked back over to him, taking the tie from his grasp before sitting next to him.  
  
"Eh, this is faster," she said, draping the tie around her neck and beginning to twist it around itself. Jack watched her curiously until soon enough, with a final tug, she had a tied necktie.  
  
She loosened the tie, gently pulling it off her neck, careful to avoid snagging it on her hair, which was pulled back and featured quite a few braids, all twisted around each other to make some kind of bun at the back of her head. The hair she'd left out to frame her face was curled, just slightly.  
  
She gently set the tie around his neck, tucking it into place below the shirt's collar and adjusting it until it was snug, but not too tight. She tucked the lower part into his waistcoat.  
  
"There, good enough," Rowan said with a smile, standing upright again and strolling over to where her dress was waiting to be removed from the hanger.  
  
"And how do  _you_  know how to tie a tie?" Jack asked, glancing down at the item in question, puzzled.  
  
"I had a very 'Avril Lavigne' sort of rebellious stage, I wore a lot of neck ties, converse sneakers, tutus, lots of eyeliner, safety pins," Rowan said, setting the hanger back on the door.  
  
"Was this when your hair was pink?" he smirked.  
  
"Maybe," she smiled, pulling on her dress, tugging at it for a moment to adjust it as she watched her reflection in the mirror on the closet door. "Will you help me with the zipper?"  
  
Jack stood, setting his staff down and stepping behind her, finding himself in the same situation he'd been in just before they went to the art show. This time he was far less concerned about looking like a creep, however, as he became fixated on the freckles of her back again.  
  
"I don't know that you need my help," he said, gently touching her back. She groaned, though smiling, as frost began to branch out from his fingertips and twist down her spine, beneath the black slip.  
  
"How do you figure that?" she said.  
  
"Well, the dress is already  _un_ zipped, so," he mumbled into her ear.  
  
"Someone's a lot more confident than they were a few minutes ago when I was just here in my underwear," she smirked.  
  
"Yeah, well, you took me by surprise," he said, his lips lightly brushing against the side of her neck. She sighed contently as he began working his way down to her shoulder.  
  
"Jack, we have to leave soon," Rowan said.  
  
"No, we don't," he muttered, hands slipping around her waist. She set her hands atop his.  
  
"Jack, come on, maybe later," she said.  
  
He sighed, pulling away from her just enough to view her zipper again. Keeping one hand at her waist, he pulled at the zipper until it completely closed her dress, concealing the slip she wore.  
  
"There," he said.  
  
"Thank you," she said, turning around and pecking his cheek before walking past him to slip on a pair of blue heels that matched the dress. "I'm not making any guarantees these shoes will stay on the whole night."  
  
"Same here," Jack said, gesturing to his own shoes.  
  
"Oh, I didn't even realize you were wearing any, that's really weird," Rowan said, tilting her head as she glanced down at the dress shoes he wore.  
  
"Tell me about it, I kind of hate it," Jack said.  
  
"You look really nice, though," Rowan said, giving him a reassuring smile.  
  
"Thanks, you did a great job on your dress," he said. As far as he knew, anyway. It  _looked_  like a dress, so that made it a successful dress, right?  
  
"I think you liked the slip better," she smirked.  
  
"This is nice too," he smiled.  
  
"Help me with one more thing?" she asked, picking up the necklace he'd given her from her desk. Jack took the chain from her hands and she turned so that her back was facing him once more. Carefully, he fixed the clasp, which rested atop the tattoo on the back of her neck, now fully visible with her hair up.  
  
"There," he said. She turned around to face him fully again.  
  
"Thank you. So how are we getting there, are we flying, or?"  
  
"No, uh, North sent me this," Jack said, pulling the snow globe from his pocket.  
  
"Oh, good! I wasn't looking forward to trying to do the flying thing in a dress," Rowan said.  
  
"Are you ready to go, then?"  
  
"As I'll ever be! Oh, I'm really nervous," she said, forcing a smile.  
  
"It's gonna be fine," Jack said, hoping he convinced her more than he convinced himself. "I'm just going to leave my jacket and everything here."  
  
"That's fine," she said.  
  
"North pole," he mumbled to the snow globe before tossing it forward. As the portal appeared, he grabbed for his staff and offered Rowan his arm to take.  
  
"I hope I don't almost fall over again," she winced.  
  
"I'll catch you," he smiled. She returned the gesture, linking her arm with his before they stepped forward, through the portal.


	40. Cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! It's the ball! It's here! And so is Cupid! I'm so excited! Especially since when I introduce new characters I can just name the chapter after them and call it good because I suck at coming up with chapter titles. This is all beside the fact that this is chapter forty, _holy shit_. And that's right, I still haven't dropped the F-word. The Ball chapters will be a bit longer because I don't want it to stretch across too many chapters, so we'll see how this goes! I think this may be my longest chapter yet.

_"Valentine’s Day?"_

_"It’s not even my holiday, they’ve just made me a terrible mascot for it."_

* * *

**Chapter Forty: Cupid**

* * *

  
  
Jack reached forward immediately to steady Rowan, who had landed awkwardly on one of her heels and went spiraling forward. He slipped, still not used to the shoes, and his staff was clattering on the ground from being dropped, but they had each at least managed  _not_  to actually fall.  
  
"See, I said I'd catch you," Jack said as they slowly regained their balance, Jack leaning over to snatch his staff from the ground.  
  
"But who'll catch  _you?"_ she laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smoothing out the skirt of her dress before glancing around in awe.  
  
This was much different than the last time she'd been to the pole. This time, at least, she wasn't here to be informed of any terrible news. She could enjoy the fact that she was in this magical place without that looming over her mind.  
  
There were lights everywhere, candles and floating lanterns. She swore there were even more lights than there had been when she visited before. The floor was covered in glitter and confetti.  
  
Work tables were put away and replaced with refreshment tables. When she walked to the railing and glanced around at the other platforms surrounding the area, she found more of the same.  
  
The pole was buzzing with conversation and laughter. Music was coming from a few levels up, on what she assumed was the platform nearest the globe.  
  
Most importantly however, in the immediate area, there were quite a few beings lurking around. She did her best not to obviously stare at the pair of centaurs that walked by.  
  
"Jack!" Rowan whispered as soon as the centaurs turned the corner and were out of sight.  _"Jack that just happened."_  
  
He laughed. "They're just centaurs."  
  
 _"Just_  centaurs?" Rowan said, appalled. "It's a person with a horse body, Jack.  _Jack."_  
  
"That's what a centaur is, yeah," he smiled. "Come on, let's see if we see anyone we know."  
  
She linked arms with him again as he began to walk toward one of the lifts. Bright orbs of light darted toward them as they went, which Jack simply waved away. Rowan watched them fly past, puzzled.  
  
"Fairies," he muttered.  
  
"Why aren't you as excited about this as I am?" Rowan said, watching them fly off as they continued walking.  _"Fairies, Jack!"_  
  
"Because Tooth's Fairies are the only ones that don't cause trouble," Jack said as they stepped onto the lift. Two yetis climbed on as well, followed shortly by the largest groundhog Rowan had ever seen, standing at her height, perhaps a little shorter. He seemed to be having difficulty keeping his balance, as one of the yetis reached forward to steady him as the lift moved. He wore a silly little top hat and a coat.  
  
"Jack!" the Groundhog said, suddenly realizing the boy was there.  
  
"Oh, hello Greg," Jack said hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable.  
  
"Congrats on the promotion!" said Greg, slurring slightly. It was becoming increasingly obvious just how drunk this creature was.  
  
"Thank you," Jack said.  
  
"Can you do me a favor and make sure I see my shadow this time around? You want a longer winter, I'm  _exhausted-"_  
  
"That's, uh, really not my call to make, you might want to talk to Mother Nature," Jack said, sliding an arm around Rowan's shoulder as he stepped off the lift.  
  
"Oh, you know how hard it is to talk to Emily!" Greg said, mid-hiccup as the yetis departed the lift as well.  
  
"That's why I never do!" Jack called back, still walking away. He leaned in closer to Rowan, mumbling, "He's kind of terrible to deal with when he's  _sober_  so…"  
  
"I didn't realize there was one specific groundhog," Rowan replied, glancing back at the creature, who had found a nice place near the lift to sit, presumably until the world stopped spinning so rapidly. "Do you suppose Mother Nature will be here?"  
  
"I don't know. I'm sure she was invited but she doesn't seem like the party type," Jack said as they continued along, carefully weaving in-between several groups of creatures, some of which looked mostly human, and others that were very clearly not. They stopped in the globe room, where Rowan found that the music was coming from, as she had assumed earlier. A string quartet stood atop a platform, composed entirely of yetis.  
  
"Jack, there's a  _yeti playing a cello, you have to be impressed by this,"_ Rowan said, pointing to the band as they stepped to the side near a refreshment table and mostly out of the way.  
  
"Okay, okay, that's impressive," he smiled, eyes going back and forth between Rowan's delighted expression and back to the talented yetis. As his eyes wandered back to the platform, he stopped short to laugh. "Is that North?"  
  
Sure enough, the jolly man, wearing a fur-lined black and red suit, was laughing and waltzing with a very strange looking old woman.  
  
"Looks like it," Rowan said. "Who do you suppose he's dancing with?"  
  
"Baba Yaga, I think," Jack said. He couldn't help but laugh at the way Rowan's face lit up, yet again.  
  
 _"Baba Yaga?_  This is so great, this must be what other people feel like around celebrities. We're watching Santa Claus dance with Baba Yaga to a string quartet of Yetis,  _this is insanity."_  
  
Rowan could barely contain her excitement and all at once decided that she wasn't really going to try. Magic had become a dangerous, uncontrollable, forbidding thing in the past few weeks. In the past few minutes, it once again filled her very being with wonder and joy.  
  
She had missed this.  
  
Jack opened his mouth to speak, likely to tease about how excited she was. Before he could utter a word, however, a large pair of wings crashed into him, nearly knocking him over. It seemed the person they were attached to had been standing nearby and turned suddenly. The winged boy in question immediately turned around and set a hand to Jack's shoulder to steady him.  
  
"Oh no, I'm so sorry! This happens more than I'd like to admit," the boy said before immediately stopping short, watching Jack in surprise and addressing him again, "Jack Frost?"  
  
Jack eyed the boy in confusion before cocking a brow, finally seeming to recognize him. "Cupid?"  
  
"Hey! Haven't seen you in, what, two-hundred-something years?"  
  
"Yeah, you, uh, got taller," Jack observed. Rowan watched the newcomer as well, trying to at least downplay her excitement at encountering yet  _another_  being she'd seen so many paintings of and read so much about. She didn't want to make him feel awkward, after all.  
  
Cupid appeared to be no older than perhaps seventeen, with neatly cut dark hair. He had dimples and a widow's peak that only further emphasized the slight heart-shape to his face. His suit was entirely black except for the waistcoat and tie, which were a sultry red, meticulously embroidered.  
  
He was  _certainly_  good-looking.  
  
"I know! I passed you up, look at that!" Cupid said with a grin, standing a bit straighter as though to emphasize that he was a good few inches taller than Jack.  
  
"Yeah, well,  _puberty_  will do that sometimes," Jack taunted.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Cupid said with a slight roll of the eye. "Oh, and uh, sorry for kind of… knocking you out of the sky last time we saw each other."  
  
"It's fine, remember when you slipped on the ice and almost broke your neck a few years later?"  
  
"That was  _you?"_  
  
"Of course it was me, you  _knocked me out of the sky."_  
  
"You were in the way!"  
  
"You were a brat!"  
  
"You still _are_  a brat!"  
  
Rowan cleared her throat in an attempt to remind the immortal boys before her that she was still there. Jack turned back to Rowan, his smile sheepish. Cupid smiled as well, his polite.  
  
Even that soft, polite smile flashed the boy's dimples.  
  
"Hello," Rowan said.  
  
"Cupid, this is Rowan," Jack said, gesturing to the girl. "Rowan, Cupid. The God of Slowly-Aging."  
  
"You must be the Mortal Muse, it's nice to meet you," Cupid said. When Rowan reached out her hand to shake his, she was taken by surprise when he took her hand gently in his and pressed his lips to her fingers. She was left giggling bashfully as he released her hand.  
  
"It's nice to meet you, too," she said.  
  
"But not  _too_  nice," Jack said, eying Rowan's hand that she had yet to set back to her side. Rowan laughed nervously in response, finally setting her hand down.  
  
"Rowan! So glad you got here all right," came Erato's voice, the Muse walking over with glass of champagne in hand. Her blonde hair was let down and curled, adorned with a collection of roses as usual.  
  
Her outfit was flashy, sequined and topped off with a feather boa, draped over her arms. She slid an arm around Rowan's shoulders in a brief hug before releasing her, passing her glass from one gloved hand to the other and throwing her arm around Cupid's shoulder. She planted a large kiss on the side of his forehead. The boy cringed slightly, embarrassed.  
  
"I see you've met my son," she said proudly.  
  
"Your son?" Rowan repeated, surprised as she glanced between Erato and Cupid. They had similar bone structure, certainly, and their eyes were the same peculiar shade of fuchsia. Erato's hairline also boasted a widow's peak.  
  
The Muse of Love Poetry, the God of Love. It made sense.  
  
"Yes, he's got his own holiday now, you know," Erato said, releasing Cupid if only to tuck a lose strand of hair away from his face as he sighed in irritation.  
  
"Valentine's Day?" Rowan asked.  
  
"It's not even my holiday, they've just made me a terrible mascot for it," Cupid said with a sigh.  
  
"It's his holiday," Erato said in hushed tones to Rowan.  
  
"I can still hear you, Mother, I'm right here," the dark-haired boy said.  
  
"The myth has Aphrodite as his mother," Rowan said, partially as a statement and partially as a question.  
  
"I've been split into quite a few beings in myth," Erato explained, seeming almost gleeful. "I'm Helen of Troy, too."  
  
"And about ten different fertility goddesses," Cupid sighed.  
  
"Things that happen when your son only ages a year every century so you end up pregnant for  _seventy-five years,"_  Erato said. Rowan cringed at the idea, Erato noticed and laughed.  _"Tell me about it!"_  
  
"It has been nearly two millennia and she has shown no sign of ever letting me forget that," Cupid said. "It's not like that was _my_  decision."  
  
"Oh I thought he was never going to be born, I was  _so_  over being pregnant! And then,  _then_  you should have seen how panicked we all were when I went into labor, Calliope, Clio, and I, we had no idea what to do," Erato said. Jack chuckled. If it was over the idea of  _Calliope_  not knowing what to do or the growing discomfort in Cupid's face, Rowan wasn't sure.  
  
Both were amusing.  
  
"Ma, no one wants to hear the story of when I was born," Cupid winced.  
  
"I do!" Rowan protested immediately.  
  
"You're out of luck, she wants to know everything about all of this. When we first properly met she interviewed me for  _hours_ ," Jack said, clearly amused.  
  
"Please don't," Cupid said, his cheeks turning red. Erato sighed deeply, turning to Rowan with a small frown.  
  
"It's such a good story, though," Erato pouted.  
  
"I love stories," Rowan said.  
  
"Understatement of the century. And I've been around for the past century so I feel as though I can say that with a certain amount of authority," Jack smiled.  
  
"Fine, fine, some other time. You behave yourself, though, or I'll get together a whole group and tell it," Erato said, turning her attention back to her son. "Have you spoken to Calliope and Sanderson yet?"  
  
"No, I haven't even  _seen_  them yet," Cupid said.  
  
"Well you make sure you do, don't be rude," said Erato. After a beat, she added, "And stand up straight."  
  
Cupid sighed deeply, straightening his stance some. "Good boy," the Muse said. Something caught her eye and she exclaimed, "Anubus!" before walking away to meet the mythical being in question.  
  
"Why is it so important you talk to Calliope and Sandy?" Jack asked as soon as Erato left.  
  
"They're my godparents," Cupid said.  
  
"So you have a Guardian for a guardian," Rowan said.  
  
"Essentially," he nodded. "Not that I  _need_  a guardian but they've always been good to me. Anyway, I'm really sorry about my mom."  
  
"Don't be, she was embarrassing you, not us," Jack smirked.  
  
"Not just that, I mean, I know she gave you that dream a while ago," Cupid said, gesturing to Rowan and causing her eyes to widen and heat to rush to her cheeks. Any and all thought processes came to an immediate halt on her part. "And that had to be so awkward for  _both_  of you. She just, she thinks she's helping and then she just makes things  _worse._ "  
  
"What dream?" Jack asked, looking from Cupid and back to Rowan, who appeared mortified.  
  
"Oh, no, you didn't know about it?" Cupid said, wincing slightly.  
  
 _"She_  did that?" Rowan managed to say.  
  
"You didn't know  _that?"_  said Cupid, eyes widening as he realized what he had just revealed. He swore softly under his breath.  
  
"Did Erato give you a naughty dream?" Jack asked, focusing his attention on Rowan, who was still watching Cupid, terrified and embarrassed.  
  
"Oh, I just made things worse. I am turning into my mother; this is a terrible revelation," Cupid mumbled to himself.  
  
"H-How did you even  _know_  about that?" Rowan stuttered.  
  
"I just… know things about love and sex lives, what people desire, almost like it sends off some kind of signal. It's part of how I know which people might make a good match," Cupid said sheepishly. "And with other mythical beings, including the Mortal Muse, it's particularly strong. I know more than I ever  _wanted_  or  _needed_  to."  
  
"So she  _did_  give you a naughty dream," Jack said, very clearly amused as Rowan turned even redder.  
  
"Oh, look, it's the Easter Bunny, I should go talk to him! Over there. Not here. Before I make things worse," Cupid said with a nervous smile before practically running off to where Bunny was, cornered by the Groundhog.  
  
Rowan watched the winged boy rush off before groaning in frustration, her cheeks still a brilliant shade of red. She had wanted nothing more than for Jack to never find out that dream had ever happened because of the taunting that was certain to follow. To learn that Erato had planted those thoughts there made everything all the more embarrassing.  
  
Not to mention, if Erato knew, and Cupid knew… who  _else_  knew about silly little fantasy?  
  
"So was it about me?" Jack asked, nudging her gently with his elbow. Rowan simply groaned again. "I'll take that as a yes. Was I any good? What did we do?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about this," she sighed.  
  
"We should be able to talk about this! How else will I live up to the expectations that your dream set for me?"  
  
"Oh my  _God,"_  Rowan said.  
  
"Did you say that a lot in the dream?"  
  
"Jack!"  
  
"Bet there was quite a few exclamations of that, too."  
  
"We never got to any sex," Rowan said, her voice at a whisper. "I woke up before we got that far, okay?"  
  
"Well then why are you so embarrassed?" he smiled.  
  
"Because this was before we were even  _together_  and it was clearly  _headed_  that way and- I don't want to talk about this right here and right now," Rowan said.  
  
"Fine, fine, fine," said Jack, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. "You can tell me all about it  _later."_  
  
"How do you feel about finding some liquor  _now?"_  she asked with a sigh.  
  
"You never answered me at the art show, are you a happy drunk or a sad drunk?" Jack asked.  
  
"I suppose if I get drunk you'll find out," Rowan said, reaching past him and grabbing for one of the shot glasses on the table.  
  
"Have you even had alcohol before, Little Miss Nice List?" Jack asked as she took the shot and made a face as it burned down her throat. She set her glass down.  
  
"I lived in the dorms freshman year," Rowan said. "And had a fake ID in high school to get into my ex-boyfriend's shows, so… yes."  
  
"And yet  _I_  got a lump of coal for Christmas," Jack said.  
  
"Sounds like Santa just has it out for you," Rowan shrugged. Jack smiled. Something behind Rowan caught his eye and he straightened his stance some. Rowan turned to see who or what it was.  
  
She was tall, and that alone made her intimidating. Her face was long and her skin was dark. Rowan supposed she must be Middle Eastern. Her eyes were light green and piercing. Her dark brown curls were adorned with a jeweled band.  
  
She smiled.  
  
"Hello, Rowan, it's so nice to finally meet you," she said, gently resting a hand on either one of Rowan's shoulders. "My name is Polyhymnia, I'm the Muse of sacred song."  
  
"Oh! Hello, it's nice to meet you too," Rowan said, smiling nervously. Oh  _no,_  she had just taken a shot of alcohol in front of what was probably the most religious Muse there was.  
  
"Don't be nervous, Sister," Polyhymnia said, her smile reassuring as she released the girl's shoulders. Rowan felt strangely at ease, as though perhaps she didn't have to worry about the Muse judging her. Had Polyhymnia inspired this feeling with her smile alone?  
  
Polyhymnia glanced Jack's way. "And hello to you, too, Jack."  
  
"Poly," he greeted with a nod. He paused. "Can I call you Poly? Or is that just the other Muses? Because your name is kind of a mouthful."  
  
She laughed slightly. "You may call me Poly if that is simpler."  
  
"Poly, then," Jack nodded, grabbing for one of the shot glasses as well. "Want one?"  
  
"Oh, no, thank you," she said. "I don't usually drink, and I daresay my sisters will do plenty tonight to cover me as well."  
  
"Fair enough," Jack said, throwing back the shot.  
  
"Can I ask you something?" Rowan asked the Muse.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"You're the Muse of Hymns… what religion do  _you_  practice?"  
  
"I am whatever I need to be," said Polyhymnia. Rowan and Jack exchanged puzzled looks.  
  
"What do you mean?" Jack asked.  
  
"For some, I am an angel or a messenger, for some I'm a ghost, for some I'm a Loa, or a vision, or a strange dream. For some I'm the idea that things will be all right," Polyhymnia said. "I am whatever I need to be to inspire."  
  
"So, you're everything… and nothing," Rowan said, clearly a bit confused.  
  
Polyhymnia simply smiled. "I am whatever I need to be."  
  
"You're being vague on purpose," Jack said. The Muse laughed.  
  
"Perhaps," she said, beginning to walk away from the two. "I hope you both enjoy the ball. Do be careful with Nicholas' vodka, it's very strong."  
  
"We'll keep that in mind," Rowan said.

* * *

  
  
"Bunnymund! I've been looking all over for you, there's a crisis… somewhere else, that needs your attention," Cupid said, approaching the Pooka who looked about ready to strangle the Groundhog.  
  
 _"Oh_ , that sounds… that sounds important. Sorry, Greg, but I  _have_  to go," Bunny said, failing to sound sorry at all.  
  
"Right! You go right on and do that, friend, I'm going to go say hello to Cupid!" the Groundhog said, beginning to look around. "Where is that little brat?"  
  
Cupid and Bunny exchanged confused glances.  
  
"He went that way," Cupid said, pointing off toward the lift.  
  
"Thank you, sir!" said Greg, saluting Cupid clumsily before stumbling off in that direction.  
  
"He's no good at parties," Cupid said as he and Bunny watched the overgrown rodent go.  
  
"He's barely good outside parties," said Bunny, adjusting the emerald green waistcoat he wore. This, alongside a dress shirt, was the extent to which he felt comfortable dressing up. At least Arachne did nice work. "Thanks for that though, I was trying to get away for about ten minutes."  
  
"Yeah, no problem, he cornered me earlier but he was only sorta buzzed then," Cupid smiled.  
  
"You got taller," Bunny observed, tilting his head slightly as he actually took a chance to really look at the boy.  
  
"I did!" Cupid said, seeming pleased that someone else had noticed.  
  
"Well, it's about time," Bunny said, smirking slightly.  
  
"Yeah, yeah."  
  
"Did you need anything when you came over, or was that just to help me out with good ol' Greg?"  
  
"Oh, I got myself in an awkward conversation with Jack Frost and the Mortal Muse so this was an excuse to leave," Cupid confessed, cringing slightly. Bunny leaned over to look past the boy's wings and saw that, sure enough, Jack and Rowan were over near one of the refreshment tables. They seemed happy enough.  
  
"I was wondering when they were going to show up," Bunny sighed. He returned his attention to Cupid and spoke in hushed tones. "What do you think of those two?"  
  
Cupid cocked a brow. "You've  _got_  to be more specific. Do you mean what do I think of them individually? As a unit? Do I think they'll have sex? Do I think either of them would be good at kissing?"  
  
"Let's just assume I want to know absolutely nothing about any of the other Guardians' sex lives," Bunny said, a look of horror coming to his face at the thought of the last few comments Cupid had made.  
  
"You sure? Because I was getting pretty strong signals-"  
  
"I just want to know what you think of them as a couple. I'm worried about the kid, I told him not to get into this with her."  
  
"Because she's mortal?"  
  
"And because they've known each other a couple of  _weeks_. You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"  
  
Cupid laughed slightly at the implication. "I don't interfere with immortals and their love lives. They  _always_  know it's me and they  _always_  get angry about it. At least when I drive the mortals to desire or reject someone, it  _very rarely_  comes back to me. And then I don't have to deal with them being passive aggressive for five hundred years."  
  
"I always forget you do rejection, too," said Bunny.  
  
"Sometimes those arrows are more fun," Cupid shrugged. "But as far as they go, I mean, there's lust there, certainly, but it's not the only driving force at play, if that's what you're concerned about with how quickly they got together."  
  
"Is he in love with her?"  
  
"They're not quite there yet," Cupid said, glancing back at the couple in question. "But they're heading that way. It's  _really_ weird because it's  _Jack_  but I've seen stranger things happen."  
  
Bunny sighed. "I was afraid of that, it's just going to make it harder when she dies."  
  
"Honestly, in love or not, her dying is going to mess him up in general at this point," Cupid said.  
  
"I suppose that ship  _did_  sail a while ago," said Bunny.  
  
"Well, it's better to have loved and lost than bla, bla, you know the rest," Cupid said.  
  
"Can you really believe that after what happened with North and Yelena?"  
  
"I'd be a pretty terrible God of Love if I didn't."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
"Getting off that topic, though," said Cupid. "I wanted to talk to you about this situation with the Shadow People and your plan for them-"  
  
"Oh, no," Bunny said immediately, shaking his head. "Your mother doesn't want you involved in that at  _all."_  
  
"But Bunny-" Cupid started.  
  
"Look, you know I'm not a fan of Calliope and the masked mistresses but your mother is one of the Muses I actually sort of get along with, I won't be getting on her bad side."  
  
"But I can-"  
  
"Sorry, Mate, but you won't be getting anything out of me," said the Guardian, patting the winged boy on the shoulder sympathetically. Cupid sighed, frustrated.  
  
"Fine, fine," he said. "Have you seen Toothiana by any chance?"  
  
"She's  _definitely_  not going to tell you anything about the Shadow People, she's closer to your mother than I am," Bunny said.  
  
"No, no, not because of that, I just haven't seen her in about four hundred years," Cupid said, shaking his head. Bunny eyed the boy suspiciously. "Really."  
  
"Well, no, I haven't, actually. I'm sure she's around,  _somewhere_."  
  
"I'll keep an eye out," Cupid said, stepping away.

* * *

  
  
"I told you. I told you he'd wear the shoes," Arachne said.  
  
Rowan glanced up from the platter of food she and Jack had been scouting and turned to find the redheaded woman with the extra arms. She wore an elegant black gown with a red midsection. Her hair was straightened and fell just past her shoulders. She'd left her glasses at home.  
  
Rowan was doing her best not to so obviously stare at the woman, but her extra eyes and the level of  _style_  she exuded simply by standing there were so distracting.  
  
She stood with a short, curvy, blonde woman, donning a fringed, flapper-inspired dress. The woman sighed dramatically.  
  
"Damn it, Jack, you just lost me a bet," she said.  
  
"What bet?" he said.  
  
"I told Arachne you'd  _never_  wear the shoes she made you," the blonde said.  
  
"And  _I_  told  _Thalia_  that you certainly would," Arachne said. "And so, she bet me."  
  
"So now I have to be her assistant while she weaves star dust into fabric next week. Making tea, fetching supplies," Thalia said with a groan.  
  
"I so look forward to it," Arachne chuckled.  
  
"I can't believe you guys bet on my discomfort- well, yes, actually I can," Jack said with a roll of the eye.  
  
"What were you going to get if you won?" Rowan asked Thalia.  
  
"Oh, she was going to have to follow me around for a day and play a rim shot every time I said something funny and  _hello!_ You're the Mortal Muse and I'm super rude, hi!" Thalia said, pulling Rowan into a brief hug. "I'm Thalia, I'm the Muse of Comedy."  
  
"Nice to meet you."  
  
"Oh, so  _this_  is the one the fuss is all about," Arachne said, her eight eyes scanning Rowan up and down. Rowan was suddenly very nervous, remembering that  _this_  was the woman that made all the lovely designs she'd seen thus far tonight.  
  
"Is it a fuss?" Rowan said nervously.  
  
"Kind of," Thalia said with a shrug.  
  
"I heard you were making your dress," Arachne said casually.  
  
"Well, I altered an existing one," Rowan said, tugging lightly on the skirt of her dress, still nervous.  
  
"I like the color, it matches what you picked for Jack pretty well," Thalia said.  
  
"So it would seem," Arachne said with a shrug. "It seems sturdy."  
  
"Thank you?" Rowan said. Was "sturdy" a good thing?  
  
"It's not a compliment, it's an observation."  
  
"Everything she says is an observation," Jack reminded Rowan.  
  
"She gave me a compliment earlier, but I don't know if it really counts," Thalia said.  
  
"What do you mean?" Arachne said.  
  
"You said I looked lovely in my dress but  _you_  made the dress so it's really more a compliment toward your skills as a seamstress, isn't it?" Thalia teased.  
  
"You look lovely regardless of what you're wearing."  
  
"And you  _make_  everything I wear." Arachne sighed. Thalia chuckled. "I'm just giving you a hard time, Ara."  
  
"I really dislike you," Arachne said. "Honestly, Lia."  
  
"And I hate you, entirely," Thalia smiled as the band started up with another song. "Oh, I love this song, come on! Nice meeting you, Rowan, and Jack I'll be getting you back for losing this bet for me!"  
  
Thalia took two of Arachne's arms, one of each a left and a right, and dragged her onto the dance floor. For the first time, Arachne seemed incredibly uncomfortable, and entirely unsure of what to do.  
  
Granted, it didn't seem as though Thalia knew what she was doing, dancing-wise, either.  
  
"That was a little exhausting," Rowan commented.  
  
"That's Thalia," Jack said with a small smile.  
  
"Was she the one that asked if you were fertile?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I can see that. But now I've only got four more Muses left to meet and I don't think I've been too much of a mess so far," Rowan said.  
  
"You've done very well, from what I can tell. Actually the Muses have been downright pleasant tonight so far," Jack said.  
  
"Yes, but none of them stuck around very long," Rowan pointed out. Perhaps they just hadn't had enough time to be rude or off-putting.  
  
"They're trying not to form attachments," Jack said with a slight shrug, frowning.  
  
"It's just- I don't know, they keep saying I'm part of some Sisterhood or something but I feel like none of them want to actually know me at all," Rowan said. "I think Erato is intrigued by our relationship, if anything."  
  
"She's intrigued by  _everyone's_  relationships."  
  
"Very true," Cupid said, re-appearing by their side.  
  
"Look who's back," Jack sighed.  
  
"Can I talk to you?" Cupid asked the boy, ignoring his tone.  
  
"You…  _are_  talking to me?" Jack pointed out.  
  
"I mean privately. Elsewhere," Cupid elaborated, using his hands as though gesturing to "elsewhere."  
  
"Did Bunny put you up to this? Because I don't really want to discuss my relationship with anyone else that  _isn't actually part of it_ ," said Jack. Rowan fidgeted uncomfortably. Jack had mentioned Bunny not exactly being supportive of their decision to begin dating.  
  
Honestly, if her friends knew all the details, she doubted they would be either. If one of her friends were in the position she was in, she couldn't say with certainty she would be.  
  
But as the nights passed, the idea of simply  _existing_  without Jack around was becoming harder and harder to imagine.  
  
"No, it's not about that at all, but it's  _important_  so can we step outside for a minute here?"  
  
Jack glanced back at Rowan said, "I, uh, don't know, I don't really want to just  _abandon_  Rowan-"  
  
"I'll be okay for a little while," Rowan said. She was an adult after all, she could handle herself at a party on her own. It might be a little uncomfortable, not really knowing anyone else, but she was certain Cupid wasn't about to steal her boyfriend for the _entire_  night.  
  
"You're  _my_  responsibility, it's still after dark," Jack said.  
  
"But there aren't any Shadow People  _here_ , Jack," Rowan said. "You're not my babysitter, go on."  
  
Jack sighed, eyes darting between Rowan and Cupid for a moment before finally saying, "Fine, but be careful, okay? There's some shady creatures here. Don't make a deal with anyone, don't take money from the Leprechaun-"  
  
"Don't eat the gingerbread house, don't trade the cow for magic beans,  _okay,"_  Rowan said. She smiled softly, hoping to reassure him. She  _had_  to be able to make it without Jack for a few minutes.  
  
For her  _own_  peace of mind, as well as his.  
  
"This better be good," Jack said, returning his attention to Cupid. Across the dance floor, speaking to a woman in an elaborate, Victorian-inspired dress, was a man with a high collar, carrying a jack-o-lantern.  
  
"The Horseman," Rowan whispered excitedly, leaning over to quickly peck Jack on the cheek before rushing over. The boy simply watched her go, puzzled, before following Cupid outside to the balcony.  
  
As Rowan approached the man, she heard his voice, sounding slightly muffled and echoed, realizing it was coming from within the jack-o-lantern. "… I'm actually a bit happy that Maria couldn't make it," he was saying. "I adore the woman, don't get me wrong, but all the  _weeping."_  
  
"Well, she  _is_  the Llorona," said the woman he was speaking to with a slight laugh. Her hair was curled elegantly and featured a grand timepiece. She set a glass of wine to her lips, and Rowan took a deep breath, glad she had at least arrived during a lull in the conversation.  
  
"Um, hello," Rowan said, smiling politely.  
  
"Well, hello," came the voice from within the jack-o-lantern.  
  
"I hope this isn't very strange but I just wanted to tell you, I love your legend. I've got a Headless Horseman doll, actually, looks just like you," Rowan said, hoping she didn't come across as a complete fan girl.  
  
"Oh!" came the voice. It seemed delighted. "Well, thank you, Madam. I don't believe we've met before, I'm quite sorry, I'm not familiar with  _your_  legend."  
  
"I don't have one," Rowan said sheepishly. "I'm, uh…. I'm Rowan Sawyer, I'm the, well, Mortal Muse."  
  
She felt silly saying that.  
  
"Are you really?" said the woman, reaching forward and taking Rowan's hand to shake. "Clio, Muse of History."  
  
"Oh! Hello, it's nice to meet you," Rowan said.  
  
"And you," said Clio. "But I must be going, Poppet."  
  
"So soon?" said the Horseman.  
  
"Afraid so, I have to speak with North, I got distracted," said Clio. She offered the other two a small curtsey before walking off.  
  
"I think that was the quickest one of them's gotten away from me yet," Rowan said, unable to help the disappointment in her voice.  
  
"Clio's always in a hurry. It's ironic, really," said the Horseman. "But it's nice to meet you, and I daresay even nicer to know that we finally got a Mortal Muse that's  _American_ , judging by your accent. Unless, of course, you're Canadian…"  
  
"I'm American," Rowan smiled. "Is it all right if I ask you some things?"  
  
"I suppose it depends on what you ask, Madam."  
  
"How does this talking thing work for you?" she asked. "Can you see?"  
  
"Magic is a tricky thing, I don't pretend to understand it," the Horseman said, carefully balancing his jack-o-lantern where a head would normally go. "But as long as I have something with a representation of a mouth on my person, I seem to be able to speak just fine. The jack-o-lantern is just tradition. How I'm able to see you, I have no idea, but I  _can_ see, otherwise I'd hate to think where I'd lead my poor horse."  
  
"Did you bring your horse?"  
  
"I did, she's resting in North's stables now."  
  
"You're much nicer than I thought you would be, aren't you the spirit of terror?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Horror, actually, and you were nice first," he said. "There's a bit of  _fun_  in horror. Terror is more Pitch Black's thing, not that our paths don't cross. He deals with all sorts of fear, I mainly focus on the horror genre and superstition."  
  
"Fascinating," Rowan said.  
  
"And what about you, what do they think you'll be the Muse of if you make the transition?"  
  
"Oh, none of the Muses have really told me what  _they_  think, Jack took a guess at it."  
  
"Jack Frost?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Tell him to stop making it snow on Halloween, no one wants to trick-or-treat in a blizzard," said the Horseman, clearly bitter.  
  
"I'll uh, make the suggestion," Rowan said with a short nod, remembering that she was attending the ball with one of the least popular spirits.  
  
"What did he think you'd be the Muse of, though?"  
  
"Stories, maybe illustration," Rowan said with a shrug. "I tell a lot of stories."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Lots of thing. Pirates, recently."  
  
"I love pirate stories, go on," said the Horseman.  
  
"What?" Rowan asked, cocking a brow. Was the Headless Horseman really asking to hear one of her stories? He  _was_  an amazing story already! What interest could he possibly have?  
  
"Yaga! Johnny! Over here!" called the Horseman, gesturing for the individuals he called to approach. The woman that had been dancing with North earlier, as well as a barefoot, unkempt man that was very much  _not_  dressed for a ball approached. The man reached past Rowan toward the refreshment table, selecting an apple from the bowl.  
  
"This is the Mortal Muse," said the Horseman. A few others nearby crept over, curiously. Rowan shifted uncomfortably beneath everyone's gaze. A crowd was quickly gathering. She didn't know what to do. "She's going to tell us a story about pirates."  
  
The others murmured among themselves and Rowan reached for one of the drinks on the table, quickly throwing this one back as well.  
  
"Are you sure you want to hear it?" she asked weakly, setting the glass down.  
  
"Go on," said the Horseman. She took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the immediate area at all the myths and legends that had approached to listen in.  
  
Rowan took another shot from the table. She was about to tell her silly pirate story to a group that was essentially composed of characters from stories that had stood the test of time. Cringing as the alcohol burned at her throat, she took a deep breath, already feeling her mind begin to fog and remembering Polyhymnia's warning about North's vodka.  
  
She was beginning to worry a bit less. Perhaps she could do this.  
  
"Once there was a pirate," Rowan said. "And he had  _awful_  luck."


	41. Toxic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bringing in another one of my favorite mythological beings in this chapter, if briefly. I hope I do him justice!

_"And then we’re done, right? And I can go find my girlfriend before she tries to make friends with the personification of death or something?"_

_"She seems pretty competent outside her decision to date you, I wouldn’t worry too much.”_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-One: Toxic**

* * *

  
  
The balcony was one of the larger ones adorning this side of the pole, overlooking a deep, intimidating ice canyon. Jack immediately felt a bit at ease, away from the crowds and around the ice and snow. It was quieter out here, the party inside muffled by the windows and doors.  
  
"Well, this is a romantic setting for our little talk," Jack said, leaning against the railing and glancing down at the jagged, sparkling ice.  
  
"Please, I can and  _have_  done better," said Cupid dryly. "I need to talk to you about the Shadow People and what exactly it is that you're all planning to do."  
  
"What, Mommy Dearest hasn't filled you in?" Jack said, cocking a brow.  
  
"She doesn't want me involved, so no one else will tell me a  _thing_  because apparently pissing her off is more terrifying than being wiped out entirely," Cupid said with a roll of the eye. "I know that you guys are going to make weapons and that you're planning something, but  _what is it?"_  
  
"Why should I tell you? I mean I figure this is probably supposed to stay under wraps, can't have it getting back to the Shadow People, right?"  
  
Honestly, Jack didn't  _really_  expect that Cupid would turn on them, not with his mother being a Muse and therefore at risk if the Shadow People achieved their goal. The frustration on the boy's face, however, was more amusing than it should be.  
  
"The Muses are my family, just  _tell me,_  please, I can help," Cupid said.  
  
"I don't know, the rest of the alliance might get all mad at me," Jack shrugged.  
  
"How would that be different from any other time?" Cupid asked.  
  
"True," said Jack, pretending to consider this for a moment. Annoyance grew on the other boy's face. "Fine, fine, the plan is to take the Shadow People down in Burgess on the full moon when they'll be at their weakest."  
  
"What's a Burgess?" Cupid said, puzzled.  
  
"Burgess, Pennsylvania, it's full of lunar magic, apparently," said Jack.  
  
"Oh the place with the pond and the kid that wouldn't stop believing or whatever," said Cupid. "Okay. How are you guys  _getting_ them there to ambush?"  
  
"We haven't sorted out all the details yet, but my understanding is that either Melpomene or Thalia will be disguised as Rowan and used as bait."  
  
"And then what, the Guardians and a few of the Muses take down  _all of them?"_  Cupid said skeptically.  
  
"At least enough of them that they're no longer a threat."  
  
Cupid shook his head. "Look, I need a favor. I need you to come with me and back me up when I talk to North about letting me fight with you guys."  
  
"I'm not so sure we  _need_  your help, Kid," Jack said. Cupid visibly became angry at the term Jack had used to address him. "I mean, I know the Muses aren't all cut out for combat but the Guardians kind of have it covered. We just need to make the weapons and we'll be fine."  
  
They had taken care the Nightmares and Pitch. With the right tools they should be able to get rid of the Shadow People as well. Then at least  _some_  of his and Rowan's problems would be taken care of.  
  
"First of all, I have lived your lifetime almost  _six times over_  so you can just back off with the 'Kid' bullshit," said the dark-haired boy.  
  
"Touchy, touchy," Jack laughed. He knew Cupid's aging rate was a sore subject for him. It was why he brought it up so often.  
  
"And second, Apollo gave me my bow before I could properly walk. There's not anyone that's a better shot than me," said Cupid. "But I mean, I guess you're right, how could almost two thousand years worth of archery experience  _possibly_  be useful in a combative situation?"  
  
"What are you going to do, make the Shadow People fall in love with us?" Jack said, cocking a brow.  
  
"If North lends me some stardust to make some arrowheads out of, I can get rid of them, just the same as your staff or his blade," said Cupid. "You've been up against these things, you've  _seen_  some of their numbers. If they're gonna dare come out during the full moon you can bet there will be more of them than you can imagine."  
  
And with that, for the first time, Jack found himself taking the pretty boy in front of him seriously. Jack had fought the Shadow People more than anyone else in the alliance and each time, all he could do in the end was run. Hold them off long enough to get away, to make sure Rowan was somewhere safe.  
  
Cupid was right, there definitely  _would_  be more of them if everything went according to plan. They could use all the help they could get.  
  
"Why do you need me to back you up?" Jack asked. Cupid's expression seemed to soften some when it became clear that Jack might actually be willing to help him.  
  
"Like I said, my mom doesn't want me involved and she's got enough influence over everyone else that they'll side with her to avoid conflict," Cupid explained. "But if another Guardian is on my side, I might be able to convince North, and my mom won't go against North."  
  
"Wouldn't we have to vote you in like we did with Pitch?" Jack asked.  
  
"Not necessarily, and honestly, I follow  _both_  the sun and the moon so I  _should_  be part of this alliance anyway. It's just a matter of letting me fight," said Cupid. "If North supports it, my mom will go along with it and no one else can really say anything."  
  
"I thought you just followed Apollo," Jack said, confused.  
  
"No, no, my powers were a collaboration between him and Tsar Lunar," Cupid said. "When my mom died, she was pregnant with me and Apollo saw it as an opportunity to see how magic would develop in a still-developing entity and he asked Manny if he wanted in on it. I'm assuming it's because Manny works better when it comes to kids. That's why I age so slowly, because if they just paused my aging like they do when the Muses come back, I would have never developed passed being an embryo. So, to keep me immortal,  _this_  happened."  
  
"That is... really complicated," Jack said, clearly overwhelmed. "I always figured Apollo was your father or something and the powers just happened. And that the aging slowly thing was just a funny way genetics screwed you over."  
  
"No, none of the Muses are involved with Apollo. He's more like a weird father-figure for them," Cupid said, shaking his head. "Which I guess makes him a grandfather-figure for me? He's, uh, he's interesting. But are you going to help me?"  
  
"I guess I can back you up with North, I'm not guaranteeing results or anything."  
  
"It's better than nothing," Cupid said, genuinely smiling. "C'mon, let's go find him."  
  
"And then we're done, right? And I can go find my girlfriend before she tries to make friends with the personification of death or something?" Jack clarified, going to walk after Cupid, who had already approached the doors, when he slipped on some ice and struggled to keep upright.  
  
"She  _seems_  pretty competent outside her decision to date you, I wouldn't worry too much," Cupid said, laughing as Jack cursed his shoes and finally just let himself fall. "Having trouble?"  
  
"Give me a second," Jack said, kneeling so that he could pull at the laces Jamie had tied for him earlier and slip the shoes off, taking the socks with them for good measure. He stood upright again, noticeably more stable. Walking easily to the edge of the balcony again, Jack tossed the shoes and socks off the edge, feeling satisfied as they disappeared from view. "There, now let's go find North," he said, walking back to Cupid and through the door the other boy held open.  
  
"Better not let Arachne find out you did that," Cupid said, still laughing slightly. "'Italian leather!' she'll say. 'Italian leather down a ditch!'"  
  
"Well, maybe since I'm doing  _you_  a favor and backing you up with North, you'll do  _me_  a favor and  _not_  tell the scary spider woman I threw her hard work down a ditch."  
  
"Oh she doesn't make the shoes, she outsources  _those,_  but fine, that's fair enough," Cupid nodded, scanning the crowd for North. One would think it wouldn't be so difficult to find a man that was at least seven and a half feet tall and dressed in red.  
  
But there were a lot of larger than life creatures here. Jack darted out of the way of a cyclops not quite looking where he was going.  
  
"And that's one of the small ones," Cupid winced as Jack straightened his stance and attempted to play it off as though that had never happened.  
  
"Oh, good," he winced before returning his attention to the crowd. He was keeping an eye out for both North  _and_  Rowan, still unsure how she would handle being left alone with the other legends for too long.  
  
"Shit," Cupid mumbled. Jack only heard because the music had stopped. Following Cupid's gaze, he found precisely what had left Cupid swearing. North was on the platform nearest the globe, smiling and speaking with Erato.  
  
"Should we try later?" Jack asked, frowning at the idea. He just wanted to get this over with so he could find Rowan and make sure she was all right.  
  
"Nah, come on," said Cupid, gesturing for Jack to follow as he pushed through the crowd and approached North and the Muse.  
  
"Jack!" North said cheerfully as the pair approached. "And Cupid!"  
  
"Hey, North-" Jack started.  
  
"So glad you are here!" North said, beaming. He turned his back to the boy almost immediately, however, turning his attention toward the rest of the pole and shouting. "May I have your attention!"  
  
Jack winced and Cupid took a few steps to the side as everyone in each part of the pole suddenly turned and silenced. North's voice was loud and commanding, with what seemed to be minimal effort. Those on other platforms shuffled to the railing to listen.  
  
"As we approach the New Year in Iceland, I would like to say few words," North said, smiling. "First, I would like to thank all of you for coming. This ball is a chance for all of us to enjoy each other's company and be at ease, if only for a few hours, and I'm sure you all know how precious having that is. It has been a trying year for many, and we all did not always get along."  
  
There were a few, scattered laughs throughout the pole at this statement.  
  
"But we must remember all the good things that happened! Despite the hardships, belief is still strong!" North gestured to the globe, glowing brightly. The pole erupted into applause at this statement. "Friendships have only grown stronger with passing years and this one is no exception!" More applause.  
  
"We have a new Guardian in Jack Frost, and I know he will make us proud!" North threw an arm around Jack's shoulders, bringing him forward suddenly. The boy smiled nervously, unsure what to do with all these eyes on him. It made him incredibly uncomfortable.  
  
The applause that came for him were noticeably weaker, scattered, more polite than anything.  
  
"So please, my dear guests, continue to celebrate! May we celebrate the past year's accomplishments and the new year's potential! Let us celebrate everyone who has made it through in good health."  
  
"And everyone who didn't!" called a slim, dark-skinned man from another platform, holding up a glass. His face was painted to resemble a skull.  
  
"And everyone who did not," North acknowledged with a nod. He spread his arms with a smile. "Five!"  
  
"Four!" The rest of the pole chimed in with him. "Three! Two! One!"  
  
"Happy New Year, Iceland, and everyone else in that time zone!" North announced. "Enjoy yourselves, everyone!"  
  
Scattered applause rang through the pole again as North finished talking, turning his attention back to Cupid, North and Erato.  
  
"Happy Icelandic New Year, Nicky," Erato said, swiftly grabbing the man by his collar and pulling her down to her level. While she was tall, and wore heels, she was still much too short to reach the man otherwise. Cupid sighed, embarrassed, and Jack cocked a brow as the Muse pressed her lips to North's in a brief kiss before taking a step away, smirking. North's eyes were wide and clearly surprised.  
  
"Mom, stop flirting with Santa Claus, it's weird," Cupid said.  
  
"Cupid, stand up straight," Erato said, chuckling to herself as she walked off, waving gently to North as she went.  
  
"I think she broke him," Jack said, watching North, who was frozen in the spot, eyes still wide. The man seemed to be attempting to process what exactly had just happened. Jack gently tapped the man on the shoulder. "You okay, North? Anyone home?"  
  
"I do not know what is going on," North said, shaking himself out of it. He glanced after Erato, still visible as she walked off to some other part of the pole. "I suddenly want to write love poetry, though."  
  
"Maybe later? We have to talk to you," Cupid said.  
  
"Is something wrong?" North asked, returning his attention to the two boys.  
  
"Not necessarily," Cupid said. "I want to talk to you about getting some star dust arrowheads so I can help you guys out with the Shadow People."  
  
"I do not know, Cupid, your mother does not want you involved," North said with a frown.  
  
"She's worried about my safety and I get that, but I'm worried for  _hers_ ," Cupid said. "I'm not a little kid, I can  _help."_  
  
"What do you think about this?" North asked Jack, brow raised.  
  
"I think we can use all the help we can get against these things and at least this time we're not making a deal with the devil," said Jack. "I mean, the plan is to take out as many of them as possible, right? I don't know that we can really handle that many of them even  _with_  Cupid's help."  
  
"The Nightmares  _were_  easier, because we just had to focus our efforts on Pitch," North nodded. He turned his attention to Cupid. "Erato will not be happy, though, if I make you weapons."  
  
"I would rather have my mother unhappy than have all the Muses continue to exist in hiding," said Cupid.  
  
"What's going on over here?" came Calliope's voice, but with a cheerful inflection that Jack had never heard before. The group turned to see Calliope, dressed in a lovely mermaid silhouette dress approaching with drink in hand and Sandy trailing her.  
  
"Cupid wants to help us with the Shadow People," North said. Sandy smiled up at Jack and waved to him in greeting. His usual sand suit had been fixed up to look more like a tuxedo and included a bow tie.  
  
"Hi Sandy," Jack smiled, returning the other Guardian's greeting.  
  
"I think that's a great idea!" Calliope said with a smile.  
  
"You do?" Cupid said, surprised.  
  
"She is drunk," North said. Sandy nodded immediately.  
  
"I am not! Not… not  _very_  drunk, anyway," Calliope said, setting her glass to her lips as Sandy rolled his eyes. The small man smiled at Cupid and floated up on one of his dream clouds until he was at eye level with the boy and pulled him into an embrace.  
  
"It's good to see you too, Sandy," Cupid said as he released the Sandman from his grasp. "I've been fine, thanks, nothing new to really report."  
  
"Cupid is such a good boy he should help us," Calliope said, pulling Cupid into her arms as soon as Sandy moved out of the way for her to do so. Her hug was far more of the backbreaking variety. "You're such a good boy, Cupid. Such a good nephew… godson… thing."  
  
"And, uh, you're a great Godmother, Aunt Calliope," Cupid said, gently patting the woman on the back. Jack chuckled slightly.  
  
"And you!" Calliope said, releasing Cupid and pointing to Jack. "Cupid needs more friends, but if you're gonna be one of them, you just don't go getting my nephew into trouble you hear me? You're  _trouble."_  Calliope set her drink to her lips again, smiling.  
  
"We're not really friends, he just thinks that I should help you guys out, too," Cupid said.  
  
"Aw, but Cupid you  _need_  friends your own age," Calliope said with a nod.  
  
"I'm over a thousand years older than he is," Cupid pointed out.  
  
"Not like  _that_  age," Calliope said, waving Cupid's comment away. She turned back to Jack. "He's got his own holiday now, you know. We're all so proud. Valentine's Day.  _You_  don't have a holiday, do you, Jack?"  
  
"Neither do you," Jack pointed out.  
  
"It's  _not my holiday,"_  Cupid groaned.  
  
"It's his holiday," Calliope said.  
  
"But back to serious matters, are you sure you are willing to do this, Cupid? It is not your fight, I do not want to make a target out of you," North said.  
  
"They're going after the Muses, and as far as I'm concerned, that makes it my fight," Cupid said.  
  
"He's so sweet," Calliope said, patting Cupid on the shoulder.  
  
"The more long range weapons we can get on our side the better," Jack said. "And being able to fly is an advantage because the Shadow People can't."  
  
"Tomorrow, when it is not so chaotic, we will discuss the arrowheads, I am not sure how you go about making your arrows," North said.  
  
"You're gonna let me fight?" Cupid said, trying and failing to hide his excitement over this.  
  
"You are a great marksman, Cupid, it would be foolish to turn away your offer to help," North said with a nod.  
  
"Thank you!" Cupid said with a grin, dimples flashing.  
  
"Your mother is going to be angry," North said.  
  
"Oh, I'll deal with that. Thank you so much, I feel so much better knowing I can do something about this now!" Cupid said. It was clear that some kind of weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders.  
  
"Your mother may still stay no," North pointed out.  
  
"Oh, Erato needs to lighten up," Calliope said. Jack laughed. Calliope? Saying someone  _else_  needed to lighten up?  
  
A few images flashed above Sandy's head as he gestured to Calliope.  
  
"Sandy's right, Calliope might not be on your side once she sobers up," Jack said.  
  
"I expect as much," Cupid shrugged. "But as long as some of you are on board I should still be able to do this."  
  
"I'm just ready to put all this Shadow People bullshit behind us," Jack mumbled.  
  
"Where is Rowan?" North said, suddenly realizing the girl wasn't with Jack. Jack winced.  
  
"That's a, uh, good question," Jack said sheepishly.  
  
"Oh, the Mortal Muse? She's telling a whole group a story about pirates," Calliope said. "We passed her earlier."  
  
"She would," Jack smirked.  
  
"Good, good, as long as she stays out of trouble," North said.  
  
"Sit down?" Calliope said, sounding a bit insulted as she watched sand images appear above Sandy's head. Sandy sighed. "But I don't  _want_  to sit down! Come on, Sanderson,  _dance_  with me! Let's dance the, uh… the Macarena! Or, no, not the Macarena, the um… hmm... Let's just dance, come on, come on."  
  
She set her drink down on and took each of Sandy's hands in her own before clumsily pulling him to the dance floor, giggling the whole way.  
  
"I almost feel bad that every time there's a ball he ends up babysitting her drunk ass," Cupid said, watching them go.  
  
"I don't think Sandy minds," North said. Sure enough, Sandy was all smiles as he and Calliope twirled around the dance floor.

* * *

  
  
"So Jack and Mr. Perry start making plans to steal a ship almost immediately and Miss Gates has to remind them that there's still a gem on the island that they have to get first. Mr. Perry points out that one of the officers has a ring with a gem that always left him feeling sort of uneasy. Deciding that that must be it, the group decide to steal back their weapons and map and then track down this officer," Rowan said, exceedingly more confident now, thanks in part to the alcohol she'd consumed and in part by the fact that the small crowd that had formed around her seemed hooked on her every word.  
  
"They found the office where their effects were being kept and upon glancing inside, found a well-dressed man carefully examining the map the sea witch had drawn out for them. On his hand was a ring, whose gem glistened in the candlelight in an almost taunting manner.  
  
"'That would be him,' Mr. Perry told the others. Before anyone had a chance to question how they would not only get the gem, but get their weapons and map back, Anne burst forward into the office.  
  
"'Officer!' she cried, throwing herself at the man, clinging to his shoulders. Jack and Mr. Perry watched, puzzled. 'Please tell me that you can help me! Two men are following me, I can't get rid of them!'  
  
"Jack scowled. 'If she double crosses me  _again,'_  he started, before the officer pried Anne off of him, his expression stern. He began to lecture Anne, knowing full well that she was the woman that had been brought in earlier. Anne maintained eye contact, though her fingers were sliding across the desk's surface.  
  
"Jack reached for the door and was about to enter himself when the officer howled in pain. Jack and Mr. Perry exchanged looks before rushing inside, finding the officer on the ground and Miss Gates holding a bloodied dagger that had been on the desk in one hand, and the ring, also covered in blood in the other. Jack and Mr. Perry's eyes quickly darted between the ring in her hand and the hand that the ring used to be situated on.  
  
"It had been severed, and now sat on the desk's surface as the officer cradled his bleeding stump of an arm. 'I got the gem!' Anne said proudly.  
  
"'You certainly did,' Mr. Perry said, appearing quite frightened. Jack, having been in the company of pirates most of his life, recovered from this revelation far more quickly than Mr. Perry did and began gathering together their weapons. 'Was that entirely necessary?' Mr. Perry asked.  
  
"'I didn't kill him,' Anne said, tucking away the ring and leaning over to wipe the blood from her hand off on the officer's jacket. She scooped up the map and took the sword Jack handed her before the trio rushed from the office.  
  
"'Are you sure you're not a pirate?' Jack asked Anne as they crept through some shadows, hoping to avoid any guards.  
  
"'I never said I wasn't, it seems I've got a talent for it,' Anne said, clearly smug. It was probably her best career option at this point, considering she had just robbed the governor  _and_  cut off a man's hand in the span of twenty-four hours.  
  
"'It's nice to know that fearing you while we worked together was justified,' was all Mr. Perry had to say on the subject as the group finally made it away from the prison, their sights on the harbor," Rowan said.  
  
"Well, then what?" Johnny asked, now on what had to be his third or fourth apple he'd consumed since Rowan started her story. The man ate the entirety of the apples, too, core and all.  
  
"Well, that's all I've really got right now, I'm still sorting out what happens next," Rowan said with an apologetic smile. Several members of the crowd groaned in disappointment.  
  
"I'm going to have to drop by and find out what happens next. You're in New England, are you not?" the Horseman said.  
  
"Yes," Rowan nodded.  
  
"Don't be surprised or alarmed if you hear a horse one of these nights, then," he said.  
  
"Well, then you can fill  _me_  in," Johnny said to the Horseman.  
  
"And me!" Baba Yaga demanded. "The story is  _decent_  but I wish it had more  _witches."_  
  
"Agreed!"  
  
"More witches!"  
  
"Sea monsters! Where are the sea monsters?"  
  
"I'll keep all that in mind," Rowan smiled as the crowd began to disperse now that her tale was through. She hoped her story truly had gone over as well as she thought it had, and that the liquor wasn't simply making her imagine such a thing.  
  
She was left alone at the refreshment table for no longer than a few moments before a smooth, seductive voice filled her ears.  
  
"Well, well,  _this_  is the Mortal Muse."  
  
Rowan turned to find a tall, slim man with a long face and pointed chin. He wore an Edwardian styled suit with a long coat. Everything about it was black. The coat, the dress shirt, the tie, the waistcoat: black, black, black,  _black._  
  
He walked with a woman, also tall and wearing heels that only served to enhance this height. Her already tiny waist was exaggerated further thanks to the corset of her off-the-shoulder dress. Her sleeves were tight and full-length. The skirt was full, padded out with a petticoat. The dress was black, but accented with red.  
  
"Who are you?" Rowan asked bluntly, unable to find it in herself to be as polite as she had attempted to be earlier after that last shot of vodka.  
  
"Ah, yes, introductions are in order," said the man. "I am Pitch Black. And this, well, this is Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy."  
  
Rowan's stomach sank and she was sure it was clear on her face as exactly who she was speaking to became known to her. Her eyes became fixed on Melpomene immediately.  
  
She hand pronounced cheekbones and eerily beautiful gray eyes. Her glossy black hair looked as though it would be soft if you touched it. A small, insincere smile pulled at her lips, a deep red.  
  
Jack hadn't been wrong in his assessment that she looked like the descriptions of Snow White. She was stunning, absolutely stunning. Lovely, but with a sadness behind her eyes. A sadness that begged to be taken away.  
  
Why did she have to be so lovely? Rowan felt as though her appearance became more and more plain, more and more _ordinary_ , the longer she stood within a few feet of Melpomene.  _This_  was her boyfriend's ex.  _This_  gorgeous creature.  
  
Rowan adjusted the skirt of her own dress, biting her lip nervously. She suddenly felt like a child playing dress-up.  
  
Her insecurities multiplied by the second. Was Melpomene doing that? She was just standing there. Smiling that small, insincere smile.  
  
"Right, well, I've heard a lot about both of you," Rowan said, glancing back up, this time focusing on Pitch, eyes narrowed.  _This_ was the man that had attempted to kill her little cousin months prior.  
  
Of course they would both show up at the same time.  
  
"All terrible things, I'm sure," Pitch smiled, setting a hand to her shoulder. "We're not all bad, Miss Sawyer, you mustn't let Jack's bias account influence you."  
  
Rowan stepped away from his hand, crossing her arms before her chest defensively.  
  
"Oh, let her think what she wants," Melpomene said, her voice far more hoarse than Rowan expected. "Regardless of how she feels about me, we are  _sisters."_  
  
"That's what you guys keep  _saying_  but I'm not really on the market for mythological siblings, so," Rowan said.  
  
"I know the feeling. Believe me, we aren't the most agreeable group," Melpomene said, glancing toward the dance floor where Thalia and Arachne were still attempting to waltz.  
  
"I noticed," Rowan said, turning away from the pair and beginning to walk off. She needed to get away from Melpomene as soon as possible. Her thoughts of how she wasn't pretty enough or skinny enough or tall enough in comparison to Jack's former fling would not stop.  
  
"Now, now, Rowan, it's rude to leave without saying goodbye," Pitch said, suddenly emerging from the shadows in front of her. Rowan turned, looking back to the refreshment table she'd left to find Melpomene still there. The Muse watched Rowan and Pitch for no more than a few moments before gracefully walking to the dance floor, quickly being offered a hand to dance by the Horseman.  
  
"She's so graceful, isn't she?" Pitch said, setting a hand to Rowan's shoulder again. "They all are, even Thalia, in a way."  
  
"Hm," was all Rowan said, shrugging away from his grasp again and starting away from the dance floor again.  
  
They were all so poised, so graceful, so  _beautiful._  She didn't carry herself in the right way to be a Muse, she thought as she attempted to straighten her stance while she walked, to exude more confidence than she actually had.  
  
"You feel like a fish out of water, don't you? The only mortal among legends," Pitch said, suddenly appearing beside her again.  
  
"Leave me alone," Rowan said, wincing at his words.  
  
"Well, I've heard  _that_  one before," Pitch said with a slight roll of the eye. "I know how you feel, Rowan."  
  
"Sure you do," she said, rolling her own eyes.  
  
"I do," Pitch insisted. "Coming to this gathering, wondering when you speak to each person, 'what have you already decided about me?' 'How much of a lesser being do you see me as?' Feeling as though you don't belong."  
  
"Okay, but people think those things about  _you_  because you're kind of an asshole from what I've heard," Rowan said, finally glancing his way. Her irritation with the man didn't stop her thoughts from colliding into one another  
  
So they had liked her stories. Maybe it had been a fluke. Maybe they were being polite. She still wasn't sure what half the Muses thought of her. Did any of them actually like her? Did any of them actually care what happened to her, or was their main concern her powers? What did the other legends think of this mortal girl, lurking around the North Pole?  
  
"I've made some questionable judgment calls," Pitch said vaguely. "None of which concerns you, so let's not let that affect  _our_ relationship, hm?"  
  
"You tried to kill my cousin," Rowan said. She realized all at once that revealing that she was related to the little boy that helped ruin Pitch's long-planned attack was probably not a smart move on her part.  
  
But then, if  _dating_  the spirit that  _completely destroyed_  Pitch's long-planned attack hadn't counted against her, then...  
  
"Cousin?" Pitch said, suddenly stopping his pacing beside her. She stopped walking too, although she couldn't say why. She looked the man in the eye and his brow furrowed as he examined her face.  
  
"Jamie Bennett," he said. It seemed something had clicked. There was at least some kind of resemblance between her and Jamie, particularly in their eyes and freckles. "Well, that certainly explains a bit."  
  
"Yeah, so, excuse me for already having an opinion of you but I don't really  _appreciate_  you trying to kill my family," Rowan said bitterly before stepping away again.  
  
"It wasn't anything personal," Pitch said, following her again.  
  
"Don't you have some beds to hide under or something?" Rowan mumbled.  
  
"No, not thanks to the conditions of the agreement that I'm  _sure_  Jack told you all about," said Pitch.  
  
"What do you want?" Rowan said, turning to face him again. Had she been sober, she wouldn't have entertained the man for this long, certainly not. Avoiding him entirely would be the best plan of action. She was mortal, she had no control over her powers and even if she did they wouldn't help her against him.  
  
But she felt stronger than she truly was. She could handle the Boogeyman, surely. She'd had just enough liquor to believe that.  
  
"Simply to talk, Rowan," said Pitch.  
  
"About what? The fact that you don't have any eyebrows?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I've been trying to figure out what's weird about your face, that's it," Rowan said. "You should very much consider drawing some in."  
  
"You're intoxicated, aren't you?" Pitch said, clearly unamused.  
  
"Little bit, did it take you this long to figure it out?" Rowan asked.  
  
"I imagine you drank more to try and get rid of the fear," Pitch said casually, leaning against the wall."I feel as though I should tell you that you can't get rid of fear."  
  
"I'll remember that next time, D.A.R.E. Officer Boogeyman," Rowan said, mockingly saluting the man.  
  
Pitch smirked. "Look at you with your alcohol confidence, you're still terrified."  
  
"Congratulations, you figured out that I'm nervous about what the immortals think of me. That was real hard to figure out, I'm sure."  
  
"It's not just that," Pitch said. "You're afraid of the other immortals' opinion of you, certainly but you're more afraid of your own mortality."  
  
"Again, super hard to figure out, you're so good at your  _job,_  man," Rowan sighed, leaning against the wall as well.  
  
"You're afraid of what will happen to you after you die. With all these deities being real, you don't know what the after life will have in store and the idea of being stuck in some kind of limbo terrifies you. Not to mention death, you're thinking about it much more than most people your age. Will it hurt? Will it be lonely? You don't like not knowing," Pitch said. Rowan shifted uncomfortably, unable to come up with a response. "But then, there's the idea that you might come back, you might be cursed to walk this world for the rest of eternity and living forever is a burden you don't want to bare."  
  
"Did  _you_  want to be immortal?" Rowan mumbled. The thought of outliving everyone in her life was awful. The thought of watching the world go by and not participating was awful. The thought of a story with no ending…  
  
"I didn't choose to be how I am, either," Pitch said vaguely. "I had other plans. And so do you, don't you? You have  _plans_  for your life, plans that don't involve fulfilling some duty given to you by Apollo, and you're afraid that might be ruined. It's a lack of control, and that  _terrifies_  you. You want to be able to fix things, to manipulate the circumstances of your life to go  _your way_ and the second magic was introduced, you found that you couldn't control anything anymore."  
  
She didn't need Pitch to tell her this. She'd already had her breakdown over this. She had already cried over this.  
  
"But as you pointed out before, that's not hard to figure that out," Pitch continued. "What's been scaring you  _lately_  is Jack."  
  
"I'm not afraid of Jack," Rowan said.  
  
"No, no, not of him, but of your future with him," said Pitch, leaning in and speaking in softer tones. It felt as though is voice was coming from her own mind and she remained rooted in the spot. "You fantasize about growing up and growing old with him, of having a life with him that you know very well  _you can never actually have_. You came up with your cover story and you  _want_  that. And then you feel guilty. Because you care so deeply for him as he is, but if you could change that about him, you would. You wish he were mortal, like you. You feel guilty about wanting to change him and being so unwilling to change yourself."  
  
"Stop," she said, refocusing on the ground before her rather than the Boogeyman, feeling her heart rate increase, her anxiety spike as he spoke.  
  
"You're afraid of the day that this all ends. Because it  _will_  all end, it certainly can't last. You're afraid of saying goodbye, so you focus on the present and try to enjoy that. You're afraid of the day that he flies out of your life and," Pitch said, leaning in even closer, his mouth so close to her ear now, "Never. Comes. Back."  
  
The feeling of loneliness that had consumed her when she and Jack had fought before getting together tugged at her heart as the greatest sense of fear consumed her. The confidence the haze of alcohol had given her was gone, all she was left with was the fear, the crippling anxiety.  
  
"And that's all beside the fact that now that you've seen Melpomene, well, you wonder why he's even bothering with you. You're not good enough, and he's going to leave you," Pitch whispered.  
  
His face seemed somehow brighter, less gaunt as she looked him in the eye at last.  
  
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Boogeyman," said a tall, slim man with a chuckle, cigarette clenched between his teeth. Rowan and Pitch each turned to face him, Rowan stepping away from the wall and Pitch at last. He was dressed in a magnificent suit, complete with top hat but lacking a shirt. Rowan wasn't sure if the visible ribcage was a fancy paint job on the man's chest, or his actual ribs. Every time she thought she had figured it out, she began to second-guess herself again.  
  
His skin was dark and his face was meticulously painted to resemble a skull. Rowan remembered suddenly that he had spoken earlier, when North had addressed the entire party.  
  
"Who sad  _you_  get to keep the pretty mortal girl to yourself all night? Aren't you here with Miss Tragedy?" said the man.  
  
"Aren't  _you_  here with your  _wife?"_  Pitch said dryly.  
  
The man waved Pitch's comment away before sliding his arm around Rowan's shoulder. "Come with me, Sugar, we'll have  _so much_  more fun."  
  
"Okay," Rowan said immediately. Any excuse to get away from Pitch, to talk about anything else that wasn't her insecurities and her fears. She began walking with the man, glancing back at Pitch just in time to see him smirk slightly before disappearing into the shadows.  
  
"Do you smoke? Of course you do," said the man, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and sticking it between Rowan's lips before swiftly lighting it.  
  
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Rowan said, coughing on the smoke as she pulled the cigarette from her lips.  
  
The man smiled. "Baron Samedi. I was hoping to meet you, Mortal Muse."

* * *

  
  
"Jack!" Tooth said, pulling the boy into her arms and taking him by surprise.  
  
"Hi Tooth," Jack said, hugging her back. When she pulled away, her smile was radiant, as was her dress, pink and sari-inspired, just like the sketch Arachne had shown them. She wore glistening bracelets and a jeweled head piece. "You look beautiful."  
  
"Thank you," she smiled. "So do you! Where's Rowan? I was curious about how her dress came out."  
  
"I'm not sure, something came up and I kind of lost her," Jack said sheepishly. "I was actually about to ask if  _you_  had seen her."  
  
"No, sorry," Tooth said, shaking her head.  
  
"Hello, Toothiana," Cupid said with a smile. Tooth watched the boy for a moment, clearly confused, before her eyes lit up in recognition.  
  
" _Cupid?"_  she said. "You got taller!"  
  
"I did!" Cupid grinned.  
  
"Oh goodness, just look at you! You've changed so much! And I mean, in a good way, obviously," Tooth said with a nervous smile. "I didn't recognize you for a second there."  
  
"Well, it's been about four hundred years," Cupid shrugged. "You look lovely."  
  
"Thank you," she smiled. "It's the one night a year I dress up."  
  
"I wasn't talking about the dress," he said. "But it's nice too."  
  
Tooth visibly blushed. Jack chuckled and the other two seemed to immediately notice that he was still there. "Don't mind me, I'm going to go find Rowan," he said with a smirk, beginning to walk off as Tooth fidgeted nervously.  
  
"Would you like to dance, Toothiana?" Jack could hear Cupid asking as he left. It briefly crossed Jack's mind that he and Rowan hadn't attempted to dance at all yet this evening. Perhaps he'd ask her whenever he found her.  
  
Jack scanned the crowds as he walked through the pole. A few times he had spied other women in blue dresses and thought for a moment that he had found her, only to find that this was not the case.  
  
The North Pole was massive; she could be anywhere.  
  
"C'mon, Sawyer," Jack mumbled to himself as he continued searching. He was growing worried until he found her, blushing and wide-eyed as the skull-faced man from earlier cackled at what must have been a very, very dirty joke.  
  
She gently reached for the cigarette between her lips, slowly exhaling smoke as the man continued talking.  _Did Rowan smoke?_ She certainly hadn't ever done that in the time he'd spent with her. There  _was_  something appealing, though, about the way the smoke danced away from her mouth.  
  
She took a drink of something that the man seemed to be holding the bottle for. It appeared to be rum of some kind.  
  
"But honestly, Sugar, don't worry so much. You're going to  _love_  dying. When you die, nothing matters anymore, it's very freeing. It took the other Muses some time to get used to it, but they came around. Death, Sweetheart, is so much better than the living make it seem," Jack could hear the man saying as he approached.  
  
"Jack!" Rowan said, eyes immediately lighting up as she saw him.  
  
"I've been looking for you-" Jack started before the man stepped in front of him, blocking Rowan's view of the boy.  
  
"We've had such a good time, haven't we?" said the man.  
  
"Oh you've been great," Rowan smiled, setting the glass to her lips again.  
  
"Did you come here with anyone, then?" the man asked.  
  
"Right here," Jack said, walking around the man, glaring the whole way.  
  
"Oh, the new Guardian," the man said, sounding somewhat bored as he glanced Jack's way but briefly. "I guess that makes sense." He returned his attention to Rowan, smile pulling at his lips. "Sugar, you let me know if you change your  _mind_  about that."  
  
"I'm standing  _right here,"_  Jack said. Who the hell even was this?  
  
The man looked to Jack again, eyes scanning the boy up and down for a moment, seeming thoughtful before saying, "Hmm. You tell me if you change  _your_  mind about that, too."  
  
At Jack's surprised expression, the man laughed before lightly brushing his hand over Rowan's shoulder and walking away.  
  
"Did he just hit on  _both_  of us?" Jack said, watching the man go.  
  
"I think so," Rowan giggled.  
  
"Who even  _was_  that?" he asked.  
  
"Baron Samedi, I think is what he said. He's from  _Voodoo_ ," Rowan said, matter-of-factly, still laughing slightly. "He's one of the Death deities, but he's not as scary as you'd think, he's just very lewd. And pushy."  
  
"Huh. And since when do you smoke?" Jack asked, gesturing to the cigarette. Rowan glanced down, and seemed to suddenly realize she was still smoking the item in question.  
  
"Oh!" she said. "I don't. But he gave it to me and it seemed rude to say no, same with the rum."  
  
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to give in to peer pressure?" Jack teased as Rowan approached the nearby refreshment table, filled mostly with empty dishes, and put out her cigarette before gently setting down her glass.  
  
"I don't know that I would call a voodoo deity my  _peer_ ," she said, turning around to face him again, smile on her face. "Besides, he was nice enough. Some of his jokes were funny."  
  
"Well, I guess that's good to know. Are you drunk?" Jack said, cocking a brow as he watched the girl, who seemed a bit hazed the more she spoke. She swayed ever so slightly as she stood.  
  
"A bit," she nodded, still smiling. She stepped forward, sliding her arms around him and leaning her head on his shoulder. He half wondered if this was just to keep herself steady or not as he slid his arms around her in return. "I was  _starting_  to sober up, I think, and then he gave me the rum. North's vodka, it hits you fast, but it also fades off sooner than expected."  
  
"Maybe we should find you some  _water,"_  Jack said.  
  
"Water and a private place," she whispered in his ear. "Jack let's have some  _fun_ , hm? I'll tell you all about my dream..."  
  
Jack's eyebrows shot up at this suggestion. "Yeah?" he said. "How about we get you the water first, and wait for you to sober up a bit, see if you still feel the same way."  
  
"I guess that's a good idea," she sighed, pulling away from him slightly in order to properly look him in the eye. "I just haven't stopped thinking about you all night."  
  
"Same here," he smiled.  
  
"You look so hot in this suit. I mean, figuratively speaking," she mumbled, fingering his collar. "Obviously you're still quite cold."  
  
He laughed. "Obviously. You're not half bad yourself."  
  
She pressed her lips to his, briefly but sincerely, before embracing him yet again. "Stay with me," she whispered.  
  
"Considering the last time I left you alone you started drinking with a death spirit I'm not letting you out of my sight," Jack smirked, assuming she was simply talking about staying with her for the rest of the ball. "Come on, let's find you that water."  
  
She nodded, releasing him from her grasp so that they could properly walk, gripping his hand as they went.


	42. How To Write A Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warning:** Discussion of death and some brief description of abuse/murder.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this one, I've been planning it for a really long time, like, it was actually one of the earlier ones I was thinking about when I was writing all this.

_Rowan just shook her head. It was as though something was pulling her along, she hadn’t ever felt something like this before. She_ needed _to walk this way, she_ needed _to catch up with them._

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Two: How To Write A Tragedy**

* * *

  
  
The music had slowed down considerably, and the dancers responded accordingly, inching closer to each other and twirling slowly, gracefully. Not far from the dance floor was a row of seats for those awaiting an invitation to dance or simply needed to sit for a moment.  
  
Rowan Sawyer fell into the latter category, seated comfortably beside Jack, her head against his shoulder and a rather large glass of water in her hands. She seemed conflicted, between watching the magnificent beings waltz in front of her and glancing back at Jack while she spoke to him, his arm draped loosely around her shoulders.  
  
"But yeah, that was the strange thing about the dream, that it took place so long ago and you were human. Well, I mean. A living, not-legendary, regular human. Mortal," she said before lifting the glass to her lips again. The water seemed far more magnificent than it really was after the alcohol she'd consumed. She'd already drained half the glass. "But the dream filled in all this back story, apparently we were love-struck teenagers forced to sneak around and keep our 'sinning' a secret to avoid scandal or something."  
  
"That sounds like the premise of a really terrible romance novel," Jack laughed. His laugh was a comfort to her, and simply being near him seemed to ease her mind considerably. The fear brought forward by Pitch was slowly being buried again. "How was I, then, as a mortal?"  
  
"You had brown hair and brown eyes and you were just as insufferable as you usually are," Rowan smiled.  
  
"You haven't told me anything  _fun_  about the dream yet," he pointed out. "I mean, I guess you mentioned me helping you take off a few things but girls wore so many  _layers_  back then…"  
  
"Because it gets  _embarrassing_ and we're still in public," she laughed.  
  
"That just makes me want to know  _more_ ," Jack sighed.  
  
"Who's that, over there in the green dress?" Rowan said, hoping to change the subject and gesturing as subtly as she could to a stern-looking woman watching the dancers. Her hair was black, flowing, and lovely, moving slightly as though to mimic clouds. Were there  _actual_  clouds lurking near her?  
  
"That's Mother Nature," Jack said, glancing at the woman as Rowan gestured. "Her name's Emily but we're not on a first name basis or anything… I mostly try to stay out of her way."  
  
"Oh? Does she  _scare_  you, Jack?" Rowan teased.  
  
"Picking on the other legends is fun, pissing off Mother Nature is a death sentence. As long as I don't get too creative with the weather patterns she sets, she leaves me alone," Jack explained.  
  
"Fascinating," Rowan commented, eyes wandering from Mother Nature and along the crowd in time to see a woman walking their way. She was on the shorter side, with olive skin and brown eyes. She wore a dress that was far shorter than many of the other styles Rowan had seen that evening and a pair of knee-high heeled boots. Her hair was styled in a fauxhawk, with the sides dyed red and the longer section down the center a dark brown.  
  
As she came closer, Rowan noticed that she had an anti-eyebrow piercing near each eye. Her ears were stretched, just slightly, and featured tunnels that were shaped like whole notes. She had an ear cuff on each ear, one treble clef and one bass clef.  
  
Rowan certainly hadn't expected to find anyone with a style quite like this woman's when she came to the ball. Something about it was comforting, like perhaps she wasn't as ancient as the others, maybe she interacted with mortals more often. She wouldn't have been out of place at Rowan's art school or any of the shows she went to.  
  
"Hello, Jack," the woman said once she was close enough to be heard over the music. "Nice suit, you almost look like a real gentleman."  
  
"Almost," Jack nodded.  
  
The woman returned her attention to Rowan, smiling. "Are you Rowan?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," said Rowan, sitting up a big straighter, removing her head from Jack's shoulder. The woman took a seat on Rowan's other side and took one of her hands to shake.  
  
"I'm Euterpe," she said.  
  
"Oh!" Rowan said, recognizing the name. "Don't tell me. Don't tell me, I know this one. Euterpe is the Muse of… song?"  
  
Euterpe smiled. "Exactly. Are you enjoying the ball?"  
  
"It's been eventful for sure," Rowan said vaguely. The ball had been about even when it came to strange, uncomfortable occurrences and actually decent ones. She held up her glass of water. "I'm trying to let some of the liquor wear off."  
  
"Oh good, yeah, pace yourself," Euterpe said, "Or you'll end up like Calliope. Sanderson was trying to keep her from starting a fight with the Leprechaun last I saw them."  
  
"I  _missed_  that?" Jack pouted.  
  
"Oh, Urania has a camera, she took pictures," Euterpe said, waving away his disappointment. "We have a whole album of Calliope drunk, it's too excellent not to document."  
  
Rowan smiled at the idea. There was something nice about imagining Calliope letting loose and the others taking full advantage and documenting. They seemed more human that way.  
  
"Cori!" Euterpe called all of a sudden, waving at a dark-skinned woman who was giving a polite curtsey to the man she had just been dancing with. She glanced Euterpe's way and grinned as Euterpe gestured for her to come over.  
  
She wore a brightly colored, flowing, layered dress that allowed for easy movement. A small section of her curls was colored blue, complimenting her dress nicely. Her eyes were hazel, her limbs were long and graceful. Judging by her arms and the vague impression of her silhouette beneath the dress, she was strong, toned.  
  
"Hey," she said, approaching.  
  
"Cori, this is Rowan," Euterpe said, gesturing to Rowan. "And Jack, but you know him."  
  
"Hi there, I'm Terpsichore, I'm the Muse of Dance," said the woman, leaning over to briefly hug Rowan before standing near Euterpe's seat to watch the dancers again. "Hello, Jack."  
  
Jack waved, half-heartedly.  
  
"It's nice to meet you," Rowan said.  
  
"Why are you just guys sitting over here? Is your  _date_  not dancing with you?" Terpsichore said, eyes darting between Rowan and Jack.  
  
Jack opened his mouth to protest before Rowan cut him off. "No, no, it's not like that, I was kind of drunk  _anyway_  and then I took rum from Baron Samedi, so I'm just sitting here until it wears off some more."  
  
"Baron Samedi  _would_ ,"Terpsichore said with a roll of the eye.  
  
"Think he can sense when there's a mortal girl around," Euterpe said, laughing slightly.  
  
"Just don't take any rum from his  _wife_ ," said Terpsichore.  
  
"He's here with his wife and he's going around hitting on everyone?" Jack said, shaking his head.  
  
"She's hitting on people, too, she was making the moves on Cupid earlier, I had to tell her to  _back off my nephew_ ," Euterpe said.  
  
"What's up with  _her_  rum?" Rowan asked.  
  
"She puts goddamn hot peppers in there, I learned that the hard way," Terpsichore winced.  
  
"Baby," Euterpe taunted.  
  
"No one asked you," Terpsichore said, briefly sticking her tongue out at the other Muse. When her eyes hit the dance floor again, they lit up. "Ooh, looks like Pitch just noticed Emily's here, look!"  
  
"Oh, this is going to be good," Euterpe said, eyes lighting up as well as she turned her attention back to the dance floor. Sure enough, Pitch stood on one end, very obviously watching Mother Nature stand poised at the other. His expression was blank, but deliberately so, as though it was taking quite a bit of effort.  
  
"Why is this going to be good?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Mother Nature is Pitch's daughter," Terpsichore said.  
  
 _"What?"_  said Jack, surprised. "Since  _when?"_  
  
"Since she was born, I imagine," Euterpe said.  
  
"I mean, I guess I can see it," Jack said, shaking his head. "That must make Pitch ancient and  _a half_ , though."  
  
"Oh, he's crazy old, we make fun of Mel all the time because of that, like he's old even by  _our_  standards," Terpsichore said.  
  
"They don't really have a relationship anymore," Euterpe explained to Rowan, each member of their small group watching as Pitch slowly made his way across the floor. "But, I don't know if it's a rumor or a legend or what, but they say that the last shred of humanity that Pitch has left is the love he has for his daughter."  
  
"Which just says great things for Mel," Terpsichore added.  
  
"Please, she didn't get into this expecting Pitch to love her. She's tragic, she's not an idiot," said Euterpe.  
  
"Is this common knowledge, them being father and daughter?" Jack asked.  
  
"They don't advertise it, but I don't think it's a  _secret_. We only know through Mel, though," Terpsichore said with a shrug.  
  
"That's just  _weird_ , I don't know," Jack said.  
  
"Right? Pitch got someone  _pregnant_ ," Euterpe said, making a face. "And  _Mother Nature_  happened. God forbid he ever knock up Mel."  
  
"Don't  _even_ joke about shit like that, I don't think the world could handle whatever unholy offspring they'd produce," Terpsichore said. "And I say that, of course, with the most sisterly love I can manage."  
  
"Always," Euterpe said, as though it were obvious. Pitch had finally reached Mother Nature's place at the other side of the dance floor, and it seemed that others had also stopped to watch as well. Mother Nature seemed puzzled, if only for a moment, watching Pitch with a small frown.  
  
Pitch was still forcing his deliberately blank expression.  
  
He bowed to her, gracefully. She watched him, and it seemed as though the entire room was holding their breath collectively. What would she do? When was the last time they had interacted? How did she feel about this gesture?  _What would she do?_  
  
She curtsied, politely.  
  
He offered his hand, slowly, as though hesitating. She watched it for a moment before just as slowly, she took it. They approached the dance floor and faced each other fully. The song was still slow, calm in contrast to the tension in the air.  
  
They danced.  
  
"They're very graceful," Terpsichore commented, her voice soft. Even those who were dancing as well glanced their way every few moments out of curiosity. It was true: they never stumbled, they never faltered. It was as though they had done this hundreds of times before.  
  
"This is still  _weird_ ," Jack said.  
  
"Three hundred and eighteen years old and the best adjective you can come up with is 'weird,'" Rowan smirked.  
  
"Right, because  _you_  don't over-use certain words, that would be ' _insanity_ ,'" Jack retorted.  
  
The song of course, wasn't any longer or shorter than the others, though it must have seemed like both an instant and an eternity at once to the pair that everyone was watching.  
  
The song was ringing out the last few notes, Pitch and Mother Nature coming to a stop, their hands falling to their sides. After a moment of hesitation, he leaned in to say something to her, quietly. She spoke back to him. They were left watching each other again, as though unsure what to do.  
  
She curtsied to him once more before turning her back to him and beginning to walk away, her head held high, always poised. Pitch lifted his hand as though he were going to reach out to her, to stop her.  
  
He stopped himself, his blank expression faltering for half a second as he clenched his outstretched fingers into a fist instead. But it wasn't an angry fist. It was somehow defeated.  
  
Mother Nature disappeared from sight, weaving between the crowds to another part of the pole. When Rowan glanced back to the dance floor, Pitch was gone as well. Gone into the shadows again, she assumed.  
  
Another song started up.  
  
"What do you suppose they said to each other?" Euterpe said.  
  
"'Sorry I'm an evil son of a bitch.' 'Yeah, so am I.' And then she left," Terpsichore said.  
  
"She's not all that nice either," Jack said.  
  
"It depends with her, though. She's a jerk when she has to be, Pitch is a jerk consistently," Euterpe said.  
  
"I guess," Jack said. "I wonder-" Jack was suddenly interrupted as Bunny appeared, standing beside him with North following not far behind. "Shit, Bunny, don't do that!"  
  
"You want  _Cupid_  to help us?" Bunny said immediately.  
  
"Hi, Bunny, it's nice to see you, too," Jack said with a roll of the eye as she stood from his seat.  
  
"His mother is going to  _kill_  us," Bunny said.  
  
"You're gonna let Cupid fight?" Terpsichore said. "He was trying to convince  _all_  of us to back him up but…"  
  
"But we're not dealing with Erato's backlash. Thanks for taking one for the team, Guardians," Euterpe said, giving them a thumbs up.  
  
"Euterpe!" North said as he approached. The Muse in question stood up from her seat to return the man's embrace. "Have not seen you all night. Are you going to sing for us?"  
  
" _Maybe_ , it depends," Euterpe smiled.  
  
"We need to not interfere with  _family matters_ ," Bunny said.  
  
"Well I feel like  _not_  falling victim to the Shadow People should rank higher than that," Jack said. "Look I don't really _like_  Cupid but we're better off  _with_  him than without him."  
  
"I don't want to make anyone who isn't already a target,  _a target_ ," said Bunny. "You need to re-evaluate the decisions you decide to support."  
  
" _You_  need to re-evaluate telling me what to do all the time," said Jack.  
  
"Are you two done? Hush, we will deal with this  _later_ ," North said. He turned back to Euterpe as Bunny grumbled under his breath. "What does it depend on, Euterpe?"  
  
"Are you gonna play with me and the band?" Euterpe said.  
  
"North plays something?" Jack asked.  
  
"What do you play?" Rowan added immediately, finally pulling herself back to her feet as well, setting down her glass.  
  
"Haha, I play the drums," North said, quickly miming the action for effect.  
  
"What do you think he does in his free time?" Euterpe said.  
  
"North has  _free time?"_  Jack asked, skeptically.  
  
"I suppose I can sit in for a song," North smiled down at the youngest Muse, who grinned as a faster song started up.  
  
"Next song, then!" Euterpe said.  
  
" _This_  song, however, is wonderful," Terpsichore said, beginning to move to the beat. She glanced around at their group for a moment before smirking slightly and quickly approaching Bunny. She took him by the arm and dragged him to the dance floor, taking him by surprise. "C'mon, Bunny, let's see how light on your feet you are!"  
  
Terpsichore's dancing was, as expected, excellent. She seemed to come alive as she moved. Every point of her fingertips, every turn was magnificent. She smiled, the most beautiful smile, the entire time.  
  
Bunny stood awkwardly beside her for a moment, still puzzled about his current place on the dance floor, before smiling himself and quickly beginning to move with her. He wasn't quite as graceful, but he kept up with her pace quite nicely.  
  
Jack laughed, "Well, I wasn't expecting to see that."  
  
"Bunny only does fast songs," North rolled his eyes.  
  
"It's easier to mess up without anyone noticing with a fast song," Euterpe added. "Let's talk song options, though, North."  
  
"What do you have in mind?" North asked as he and the Muse walked off, heading for the stage.  
  
"C'mon," Jack said, offering Rowan his hand. "We gotta at least  _attempt_  to dance once, think you're sober enough to stay upright?"  
  
Rowan smirked, "Only if I take care of something really quick." She sat down again, leaning over and reaching for her shoes, pulling them off before setting them out of the way and under the chair. There were slight red indents on her feet, and when she stood she was no longer at Jack's height but rather the few inches shorter that she usually was. "I can't walk in those anymore."  
  
"You made it longer than I did," he smiled.  
  
"I don't know what to do," she said as they stepped onto the dance floor, smiling nervously.  
  
"I don't either," Jack said, spinning her around for a moment. They began to move stiffly, awkwardly.  
  
"You two don't know what you're doing!" Terpsichore laughed as she and Bunny came closer.  
  
"We can't all be the Muse of Dance!" Rowan said.  
  
"Just  _feel_  it," Terpsichore said, reaching forward and touching the side of each of their heads if only for a moment. "And stop doing whatever it is you're doing with your arms!"  
  
The moment she moved her hands away, it somehow  _did_  seem easier to move, and their gestures seemed less haphazard.  
  
"We're still a hot mess," said Rowan. Terpsichore laughed, Bunny nodded in agreement.  
  
"I don't know about  _hot_  mess," said Jack with a small smile.  
  
"Cold,  _stiff_  mess, my powers can only do so much!" Terpsichore said. She hiked up her skirt some, showing her legs, strong and shapely. She began moving her feet and said, "Come on, try this!"  
  
"Looks easier than it is," Jack laughed still stumbling. Rowan lifted her skirt slightly to keep from tripping over it and attempted to do as Terpsichore was showing them.  
  
"It's obviously because you two aren't Australian," Bunny said with a short nod, having considerably less difficulty moving with her.  
  
"Well, it's a scientific fact that us Australians are better at everything by our very nature," Terpsichore laughed.  
  
"Tell that to London's Olympic medal count," Jack smirked.  
  
Terpsichore waved his comment away as the song came to an end and they each stopped moving. There was quite a bit of shuffling around on the stage set-up, and a crowd seemed to be gathering already.  
  
"Have you heard Euterpe sing before?" Terpsichore asked Jack and Rowan. Both shook their heads. "You're in for a treat, then! C'mon, Bunny, let's find a better place to watch."  
  
"We'll talk later," Bunny said to Jack before following the Muse to the side of the stage. Jack simply rolled his eyes.  
  
"So, Terpsichore and Euterpe stuck around longer than the other ones did at least," he commented, turning back to Rowan.  
  
"They did! It was kind of nice," Rowan smiled. The fact that they all didn't seem to have a time limit for how long they were going to interact with her was comforting, at least. Her opinion of the Muses hadn't been very high, but she felt like she might actually like those two.  
  
" _They_  were kind of nice, strangely enough," Jack commented. "But that's probably the most  _I've_  dealt with the two of them, so."  
  
"Check, check, check, can everyone hear me all right?" Euterpe said into the microphone as she stood on the small stage.  
  
"C'mon," Rowan said, approaching the crowd in order to get a better look at the stage. Jack followed behind closely.  
  
North had settled at the drum set near the back and seemed to be testing and adjusting a few things. "Ready St. Nick?" Euterpe asked. North nodded and Euterpe returned her attention to the crowd.  
  
North started up first, quickly showing that he was at least somewhat skilled at his hobby. The yetis soon followed.  
  
It truly was one of the stranger sights to be seen: North and a band of yetis backing a petite girl sporting a fauxhawk.  
  
She opened her mouth and the sound that came was smooth and skilled. Her voice was more operatic than expected, ringing across the room with power and commanding attention.  
  
Her voice shook you to the core, moved you. To say that she was good was an understatement. As the song continued, more people gathered to listen.  
  
"Oh, she's excellent," Rowan mumbled. Jack simply nodded, eyes still to the stage. Euterpe began to move along the stage, her presence impressive indeed. The way she moved only further emphasized the emotion in her voice.  
  
Hearts swelled. They ached as she sang.  
  
There was someone up ahead pushing through the crowd, trying desperately to get  _away_  from the stage. The woman stumbled, grabbing for Jack's shoulder as she began to fall in an attempt to keep upright. Jack instinctively went to steady her before she looked up at him.  
  
Melpomene's face showed nothing short of distress as she straightened her stance. Her eyes were brimming with tears she was trying desperately to keep from falling. She hastily glanced between both Jack and Rowan, humiliation flashing behind her eyes before darting around them and rushing off again.  
  
Jack and Rowan each exchanged puzzled looks before turning to watch as she rushed away from the room.  
  
"Excuse me, excuse me," came Polyhymnia's voice as she pushed through the crowd, passing Jack and Rowan before rushing after the girl. "Mel! Melpomene, wait a moment!"  
  
Calliope and Clio, both having been outside the crowd, had an easier time following the pair to wherever it was they were going, though Calliope stumbled slightly (still drunk?) and Clio had to steady her.  
  
"Excuse me!" Urania called, flying over the crowd and after the others. It drew more attention than she probably wanted, but Rowan supposed it was easier than shoving through. It was the first that Rowan had seen of that particular Muse all night.  
  
"Excuse me, coming through," Erato said, her voice far more authoritative than Rowan had ever heard it be as she pushed by behind Rowan and Jack. Terpsichore was following her closely, glancing back at the stage apologetically every few moments.  
  
Euterpe was still singing, it was understandable that she hadn't joined the others. Rowan looked around for Thalia and found her speaking to Arachne before pulling her mask from seemingly nowhere and fixing it to her face. In the next instant she was gone.  
  
Rowan turned, suddenly, and at a brisk pace began to walk the way the Muses had gone, hoping she'd still be able to catch them. She had to catch up with them; she couldn't  _lose_  them.  
  
"Rowan? Where are you going?" Jack asked, quickly following her. "We should probably just leave this alone!"  
  
Rowan just shook her head. It was as though something was pulling her along, she hadn't ever felt something like this before. She  _needed_  to walk this way, she  _needed_  to catch up with them. Her eye caught Terpsichore's brightly colored dress as she turned the corner and she sped up her pace.  
  
"Rowan, seriously," Jack said, still close behind.  
  
"Hush!" she said. At the end of the hall, six of the Muses were gathered outside an open door, looking in. The most pathetic of sobs could be heard from inside the room.  
  
 _Sister._  
  
The word darted across Rowan's thoughts and she quickly shook it away, her pace slowing. Melpomene was not her sister. None of them were.  
  
And yet, all she wanted to do was be there, she felt like she  _should_  be there. What the hell was going on? She slowed to a stop behind a nearby pillar and mostly out of sight. Jack stood close by.  
  
"I don't really want to get involved with-" Jack started.  
  
"Shhh!" Rowan hissed, carefully glancing around the pillar to get a better look at the Muses. The sobbing could still be heard, hoarse and so, so, sad.  
  
"It's been… it's been  _centuries,"_  came Melpomene's voice from within the room. She was clearly the one crying.  
  
"It's going to be all right, Mel," came Polyhymnia's soothing voice. She was in the room with Melpomene.  
  
 _"When!? When is it going to be all right, Poly? I can't keep doing this!"_  
  
"Shhh, we've been through this before, haven't we? You always turn out okay. I know you're hurting. Come on, take some deep breaths."  
  
"I don't want to! I can't do this, I can't  _do this_."  
  
Clicking of heels could be heard down the hall, approaching quickly. Rowan and Jack turned to find Euterpe rushing toward them. She stopped where they stood, glancing quickly toward the other Muses before turning her attention to Rowan.  
  
"Mel's having a meltdown isn't she?"  
  
"Sounds like it," Rowan said.  
  
Euterpe groaned. "I didn't mean to- never mind," she said, shaking her head. She approached the other Muses, who stepped aside so that she could properly stand in the doorway.  
  
"Mel?" Euterpe said. "I'm really sorry if-"  
  
"GO AWAY!" Melpomene shrieked, causing everyone in the immediate area to jump. She appeared in the doorway, black rivers streaming down her face, tears mixed with mascara and eyeliner. "I don't want to look at  _you!"_  
  
"Mel-" Euterpe started, taking a step back.  
  
"Go away!" she said again, this time more of a sob than a shout. She slammed the door shut in Euterpe's face, leaving the youngest Muse cringing.  
  
"Come on, girls," Calliope said. "Polyhymnia knows how to deal with her, we will leave them alone."  
  
"Calliope's right, Mel doesn't need an audience, come on," Clio said, gesturing for the others to follow as she and Calliope began to walk back to the party. They cast an annoyed glance toward Jack and Rowan as they passed, but said nothing. Urania followed them shortly, offering a sheepish smile and small wave to the pair. Erato offered them a shrug, following Urania closely.  
  
"I didn't  _mean_  to upset her!" Euterpe said, looking quite distressed herself as Terpsichore draped an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"It isn't your fault, she knows that," Terpsichore said as they passed. Thalia was a few paces behind.  
  
"But you didn't  _do_  anything?" Jack said. Euterpe, Terpsichore and Thalia each stopped and turned to face Jack again. Rowan was confused as well. All Euterpe had done was sing a song. Had that upset Melpomene?  
  
"I just-" Euterpe started. She sighed. "It's. It's a really long story, okay?"  
  
"You guys go," Thalia said to Euterpe and Terpsichore. "I'll tell them."  
  
"I don't think Mel would want you to," Terpsichore warned.  
  
"I'll deal with that," Thalia said, setting her glass of champagne to her lips for a moment.  
  
"Okay, but we don't know  _anything_  about this if she finds out," Euterpe said, gesturing to herself and Terpsichore before turning to walk away again. "I need a drink."  
  
"Let's go," Terpsichore said, walking with her.  
  
"Just tell her I was drunk, talking nonsense," Thalia called after them before turning her attention back to Jack and Rowan.  
  
"What's a long story?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Not here," Thalia said, shaking her head. She gestured for them to follow her. "Come on."  
  
Jack shot Rowan a look of confusion before she followed Thalia down the nearby hall. Jack simply sighed before trailing them closely. Thalia knocked on the nearby door and when she received no response, opened it and stepped inside. Jack and Rowan followed, finding it to be a guest room of some kind. There was a bed, a dresser, and armchair inside.  
  
"Is that a bathroom?" Rowan asked, gesturing to another door as Thalia closed the one they had just walked through.  
  
"Think so," Thalia said.  
  
"I'll be right back then," she said, strolling over. "All that liquor and then the water…"  
  
"Good plan!" Thalia said, settling herself down on the bed after gently setting her glass of champagne down on the bedside table.  
  
When Rowan returned a short while later, straightening her dress as she went, she said, "That was by far, the fanciest bathroom I have ever used."  
  
"Right? North went all out," Thalia said.  
  
"Does he have a lot of these guest rooms? I've never even been to this part of the pole before," Jack said as Rowan took a seat in the armchair and he sat, cross-legged, on top of the dresser.  
  
"Tons, half the people here will end up passed out in one by the time the party's over," Thalia nodded. "But that isn't why we're here."  
  
"Right, so, what's the story?" Rowan asked.  
  
"It's Mel's story," Thalia said, lying on her stomach on the bed and propping her head atop her hands. "I'm just drunk enough to think telling you two is a good idea. I guess I can't really tell you her story without telling you mine, too, though. We're sisters."  
  
"Well, you're all 'sisters,'" Jack said, complete with air quotes.  
  
"No, no," Thalia said, shaking her head. "We're  _really_  sisters. Half-sisters at least. We have the same father."  
  
"Does that happen a lot?" Rowan asked.  
  
"No, not at all, we're the only Muses that are actually related. And as far as I know, when we were alive, it was the only time there was more than one Mortal Muse at a time," Thalia explained, lightly tracing the pattern on the comforter with her fingertips.  
  
"You two don't look alike at all," Jack said. It was true. Melpomene was quite tall, while Thalia was the shortest Muse. Melpomene's hair was jet black while Thalia's was light blonde. Melpomene had long, wiry limbs and a slim body. Thalia was curvy, her wide hips one of her more noticeable features.  
  
However…  
  
"You have the same eyes," Rowan said. Their eyes were an eerie but beautiful shade of gray.  
  
"Our father's eyes," Thalia nodded. "I took more after him. Mel looks just like her mother. You see, our father was a very wealthy man and he was part of a good family that married him off to a girl from an equally good family. That was Mel's mother, his wife. They used to say that she was the most beautiful woman in town until her own daughter passed her up. But our father didn't care much for his wife, and he took on a mistress:  _my_  mother. I was born a week after Mel, to the day.  
  
"Our father slipped my mother money in secret to keep her quiet. Anyone finding out he had an illegitimate child would have ruined him. She claimed that her late husband had been my father but a lot of people were skeptical anyway because the times didn't work out quite right. They didn't associate with me much, you know, potential child of sin and all that."  
  
"And what about Mel?" Rowan asked  
  
"She was very popular. Everyone in town just adored her. She had a long line of suitors and our father spoiled her. She was beautiful, she was poised, but that wasn't why everyone loved her. It was her voice," Thalia said with a frown.  
  
"What, her chain smoker voice?" Jack said, brow furrowed. Rowan was confused as well. She hadn't heard Melpomene talk much, but when she had, her voice had been closer to a croak.  
  
Thalia shook her head. "When we were alive, Melpomene had the most beautiful voice. Singing was her favorite thing to do, it was basically her first love. While I was cracking jokes to try and get anyone to pay attention to me, they flocked to her to hear her practice her  _scales._  Imagine the most beautiful thing you've ever heard, double it and it  _still_  won't reach the level that Mel's voice was at. I'll never tell Euterpe this, but Mel's voice even blew hers out of the water. Hell, Melpomene  _means_  'choir'!  
  
"Composers from all over would write songs in the hope that she would sing them. Important men begged her to come to events and sing when she was a  _child_. It was said she could make the most faithful man fall in love with her with a single song. She was engaged to the wealthiest man in town, who swore he'd win her hand after hearing her perform. The other Muses, it was just Calliope, Clio, Erato and Poly at this point, were all certain she'd be the Muse of Song if she made the transition," Thalia said.  
  
"Well," Jack said. "That obviously didn't happen."  
  
Thalia shook her head. "No. Obviously. Mel had this cough, you see. It would come back every couple of weeks and she'd be out of commission to sing for a week or two before it would stop. I actually kind of liked when that happened because it meant people would shut up about her for a minute. We never got along much, you see. I was angry that everything worked out so nicely for her while my mother struggled to raise me and I couldn't seem to make friends to save my life. She just… didn't like me. We didn't know we were related at that point."  
  
"But Mel's cough," Rowan reminded Thalia.  
  
"Right, right," Thalia said. "Sorry, I get sidetracked so easy. Anyway, it started coming back more and more frequently, right? Soon she was sick more than she was well. If it had been today, they probably would have just given her some antibiotics and fixed her right up, but this was… a different time. Nothing they did made the cough go away for good. Eventually, her vocal chords were damaged beyond repair. The doctor told her that she would never  _speak,_  much less sing again."  
  
Silence fell over the room as Thalia watched the others, as though wondering what they thought. Jack seemed suddenly very interested in his staff, twisting it around in his fingers again. Rowan bit her lip, unsure what to say.  
  
"Imagine," Thalia said. "The one thing you love more than anything in the world. Everyone loves you for this thing, you are _celebrated_ for this thing. It brings you so much joy. It's the only thing you've ever wanted or needed. It's your passion, your reason for living. And then it's gone."  
  
Rowan's heart sank, glancing down at her hands, thinking of her drawings. It would completely destroy her if she ever lost the ability to use her hands, to draw or write or otherwise. If she wasn't able to do that, to create…  
  
"I wouldn't want to live," Rowan mumbled, half hoping the others wouldn't hear.  
  
"She didn't," Thalia said. "It destroyed her. No one wanted anything to do with her anymore. Her fiancé was rethinking the engagement; her world was crumbling. To make matters worse, our father died not long after. Without the money to keep her quiet, my mother came forward and told  _everyone_  that he was my father. It was a huge scandal. I tried to talk to Mel, I mean, we were  _sisters._  She couldn't talk back to me, obviously, but I knew how upset she was. Everything had gone right for her for so long, and then all at once her world fell apart and she didn't want me hanging around. So I started leaving her alone. But I'd see her wandering aimlessly around town, her eyes red like she'd been crying, carrying dead flowers she'd received when she could sing. Something in her snapped."  
  
Thalia paused, as though hesitating before continuing with the next part of the story. "They found her face-down in the river, maybe a month after she lost her voice. No one was sure if she fell in or did it on purpose. Even now, she won't tell any of us which one it is and I'm not really sure if she  _remembers_ , honestly. But it was just another scandal to the town. The young girl who used to be a grand singer, lost everything and was found dead in the river. They didn't stop talking about it for years."  
  
"Very Ophelia," Rowan commented.  
  
"She talked about Ophelia a lot," Jack said, speaking again at last. "She was weirdly obsessed with  _Hamlet_  in general."  
  
"I think Will is the only one she ever really talked to about her death," Thalia said. "We were his favorites, she and I, don't let Calliope tell you different. But he always made her feel like being tragedy was a beautiful thing. He wasn't the only one, of course, but he was special. He took her death and used it for Ophelia."  
  
"Can I ask how you died?" Rowan asked hesitantly.  
  
"I was born a week after Melpomene and I died a week after Melpomene," Thalia said with a small smile, returning to a seated position. "See,  _I_  was engaged, too. My mother had somehow set something up, but considering I wasn't exactly sought after, I found myself engaged to a man that was… not desirable in the least. He was rude, he drank a lot, and he had a terrible temper. But his sister, you see, she was my best friend. And, uh, a bit more my type."  
  
"You mean, she was a  _girl?"_  Rowan said, taking note that Thalia had been dancing with Arachne earlier. It seemed the two were attending the ball  _together_  and not just happening to spend time with one another as friends.  
  
"Precisely," Thalia said with a small, nervous smile. "But not just that, she was kind, she liked my jokes, she was beautiful. Her name was Ana. I feel like it was short for something but I don't remember what it was, and I'm too embarrassed to ask Tooth to help me remember. I cared about her so much but I don't remember what her full name was… and that hurts. It's a terrible thing about being around so long."  
  
Rowan winced, glancing back at Jack briefly, finding that he had done the same before they both looked away suddenly. Knowing that someone else had forgotten something like this about a mortal they once knew was not comforting in the least.  
  
"She was always there for me, and I went to her after Mel died because I was having all these mixed feelings. I sort of felt relieved that Mel was gone because she had never been a positive part of my life. Then I felt guilty for being glad she was gone. Part of me felt genuinely sad, because she was my  _sister_ , even if we weren't raised together and never got along. Ana made me feel better, she always did."  
  
"Then what happened?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Well. Kissing your fiancé's sister is sort of a jerk move regardless of who you are," Thalia said, wincing slightly. "He had been drinking and he found us together and completely lost it. There was a point, though, while he was beating me, that I just started laughing. It was all just so ridiculous. I was being beaten to death for loving my fiancé's sister more than I could ever even  _like him._ After everything I was upset about, after worrying about whether or not I was reacting to Melpomene's death in the  _correct_ way, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered because I was going to die. It was almost euphoric, knowing that.  
  
"And so I laughed. I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I laughed at my fiancé for his absurdity. I laughed at the things I thought were problems before that moment. I laughed at how much angrier he got at the fact that I was laughing. I laughed until everything went black and I couldn't laugh anymore. I died laughing, because if I didn't, I would have died crying, like Melpomene no doubt did."  
  
Rowan felt chills rush down her spine at the description. She was reminded again of her own mortality. It was eerie, truly eerie to have someone describe their last, violent moments. She didn't know what to think or if there was anything right to say. She felt pity for Thalia and fright for herself. She wasn't sure if it was appropriate to react to this story with fear for her own life.  
  
"Five of us were murdered," Thalia said. "Erato calls us the 'Slaughterhouse Five.' Gotta have a sense of humor about these things."  
  
"That's uh… intense," Jack said.  
  
"How did you die?" Thalia asked. "If you don't mind me asking, I mean, I told you mine."  
  
"I, uh, I was helping my little sister get off some thin ice and  _I_ fell in, instead," Jack said hesitantly.  
  
"You and Mel both drowned, then, maybe that's part of why she was drawn to you," Thalia commented.  
  
"Why is it she can speak now?" Rowan asked, hoping to get the conversation away from Jack and Melpomene's past, as well as Jack's death.  
  
"Well, when Apollo brings us back, he gives us a new body. I mean, obviously, it's been a year so the old one is all decayed and everything. But he uses the old one as a starting point. So, for instance, I'm still as short as I was when I was alive because this short body is based on my old short body. He can only do so much with what he has to work with. So the story is that when he was working on Mel, her vocal chords were so damaged, that the most he could do was give her back the ability to speak in the damaged voice she has now."  
  
"You don't believe that, though?" Jack asked. Rowan too, took note that Thalia referred to this explanation as "a story."  
  
Thalia seemed to hesitate again. "Look, you can't tell the others that I said this, but no, I don't. I think that Apollo could have given her back her voice. I think that he could have given her back her voice  _improved_ , but that he chose not to."  
  
"Why would he do that?" said Rowan.  
  
"Because he wanted both of us," Thalia said, seeming to feel guilty about this. "I was definitely, no way around it, going to be the Muse of Comedy if he brought me back. But even though people think that comedy and tragedy are total opposites, you _can't have one without the other_. You can't have a Muse of Comedy and no Muse of Tragedy."  
  
"So if he gave her back her voice, she would have been the Muse of Song," Jack said.  
  
"Yes. Losing her voice  _was_  her great tragedy, and giving it back would negate that. She couldn't be the Muse of Tragedy with her voice back the way it was. Without Tragedy there is no Comedy. He could either have her alone as the Muse of Song, or he could have both of us, as Tragedy and Comedy. He wanted both," Thalia said. "And I think that Mel believes this too, but I don't think she likes to think about it because it hurts to much to think that she could have gotten her voice back, but because Apollo wanted her to be Tragedy, she didn't."  
  
"So, she  _was_  upset over Euterpe singing earlier, then?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Oh, Poor Euterpe," Thalia sighed. "Mel has never been so terrible to another Muse who transitioned before. But the moment Euterpe became not just a Muse, but the Muse of  _Song_ , Mel lost it. She did everything possible to alienate Euterpe, and a lot of us avoided  _both_  of them just because we didn't want to deal with fighting with Mel. It wasn't our proudest moment, we should have been better to Euterpe and not let Mel influence us so much. But Mel's bitter, and she's still so hurt that there's a Muse of Song and it isn't her. She and Euterpe are on better terms now,  _finally_  and Mel can even listen to her perform sometimes, but… well, sometimes when she hears Euterpe sing, it just hits her all over again that she  _can't."_  
  
"The more I learn about all of you, the more dysfunctional you become," Jack said.  
  
"Oh, we're terrible to each other. We fight, we have rivalries, sometimes we don't all see each other for centuries at a time," Thalia said. "But we're sisters. For better or worse."  
  
"Is that why you're defending her, then?" Jack asked. "Because I know you said she was terrible to Euterpe, but Melpomene always seems like she's a jerk to you in particular."  
  
"I'm a jerk right back. I think we have an understanding that most of the shitty things we say, we don't really mean. Somewhere along the line we realized we needed each other and that what happened when we were mortal shouldn't affect our relationship now," Thalia said. "And I mean, it's not like I expect either of you to start liking her or feel sorry for her or anything. But maybe you'll understand her little better now. She never wanted this."  
  
"Did  _any_  of you want this?" Rowan asked.  
  
Thalia smiled. "No. No one  _really_  does. But you make the best of it. The world needs us the way we are. You could argue that the world needs Melpomene, especially. No matter how much everyone hates her, she's the one Muse that universally, people connect with. She helps people take their misery and channel it into something creative. To  _create_  something out of what is destroying them. And soon it becomes easier.  
  
"That's what's probably the most ironic thing about it," Thalia said. "By inspiring artistic and literary tragedies, Melpomene helps people overcome their  _personal_  tragedies. But she'll never get over hers."


	43. Night and Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another super super long ball chapter! If I didn't make them long then they'd take up way more room than I want them to so what can you do? More stuff happens, more stuff _almost_ happens, and _more_ characters are introduced. Holy shit!
> 
> Another warning this time around, guys. Start of this chapter will be **slightly NSFW.**

_"Three words, mate," Bunny said, passing them and continuing to walk a few paces ahead. "Blizzard of ‘68."_

"How are you still mad about that? _It was almost fifty years ago!”_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Three: Night and Day**

* * *

  
  
"This has been, by far, the  _weirdest_  night," Rowan said, she and Jack left alone in the guest room. Arachne had come by a few moments earlier to check that Thalia was doing all right. The Muse in question had left with the redhead after bidding the two farewell.  
  
"Tell me about it," Jack sighed, having moved from his place atop the dresser and taking to pacing around the room. He stopped every now and again to fumble with things like the bedside lamp, the far window, and the armoire in the corner. He was in no rush to rejoin the party, but was restless regardless.  
  
"But I guess that should have been expected, I mean. It's a party at the North Pole, full of mythological creatures," Rowan said, as though she was still having a difficult time wrapping her mind around the fact that this was, in fact, actually happening.  
  
"This is weird even by mythological standards," Jack said. "I mean, the last thing  _I_  certainly expected to do tonight was sit down and get a history lesson about  _any_  of the Muses, much less Melpomene."  
  
"She never brought any of that up, hm?" Rowan asked, standing up as he approached her side of the room again and blocking his path. Was his pacing making her nervous? Something about the girl seemed off.  
  
"No. But she lurked around one specific river a lot, I'm sure that  _has_  to be the same one. But who am I to judge, I live around the corner from where  _I_  died," Jack said with a shrug. "Honestly, Melpomene never told me much of  _anything_  like that. I mean, like I told you before, I didn't even know she  _was_  the Muse of Tragedy until Urania told me."  
  
Rowan nodded slightly before taking a seat on the edge of the bed, her expression thoughtful and her eyes carefully focused anywhere but his.  
  
"Something wrong?" Jack asked, sitting beside her.  
  
"It's just… it's very strange, meeting her after hearing about her from you and then hearing  _more_  about her from Thalia, it's all… I don't know," Rowan said, shaking her head. "Earlier, when I met her and the Boogeyman-"  
  
"You didn't mention that before," Jack said, immediately on alert. He didn't want Pitch interacting with Rowan at all if he could help it. "Pitch  _better_  have behaved himself, we have a  _deal_."  
  
"He just talked to me for a little bit before the Baron showed up," Rowan said quickly. "No need to go all warrior on him."  
  
"He does plenty with his 'talks,'" Jack frowned.  
  
"I'm fine. He wasn't exactly polite but it's nothing to write home about," she said. "But just, before that, when I first met them…" She trailed off.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind, it's stupid," she said.  
  
"Well now you  _have_  to tell me," he said, nudging her gently with his elbow. "C'mon, something's up with you, is it this or Thalia's story or?"  
  
"Just," she said, fiddling with the slit in her skirt. "Is it very strange for you? Going from someone like Melpomene to someone like me?"  
  
"Well, technically I went from Melpomene, to around two hundred fifty years of solitude, and  _then_  to you," Jack said, shifting his position slightly so that he could face her better. "But no, why would that be strange?"  
  
"Just. I don't know how I measure up," Rowan said bashfully.  
  
"Measure up to what?" Jack asked, genuinely confused. Hadn't he told her how terribly everything had ended with Melpomene? They weren't anything alike and he was  _glad_  for that.  
  
"She's so tall, and so  _graceful_  and so… pretty," Rowan said lamely, avoiding eye contact.  
  
"Aw, come on," Jack said, leaning over to catch her gaze anyway. He offered her a reassuring smile. "Don't compare yourself to the other Muses, okay? What does it matter if she's tall and graceful and pretty?"  
  
"I just felt so  _plain_  standing next to her. I said it was stupid," Rowan frowned.  
  
"You're right, it is stupid," Jack said simply. "You're not plain at  _all_."  
  
"Come on, Jack, you have to admit I'm not anywhere near as pretty or interesting as the others here," she said, fully glancing his way at last.  
  
"Rowan, you kept the attention of a whole group of those legends by telling a  _story_ ," Jack pointed out. Hell, the story was the whole reason  _he_  started keeping closer tabs on her in the first place. "Besides, you're beautiful."  
  
"I'm just-" she started.  
  
"Don't argue with me on this point, Sawyer, you're pretty and interesting and you're going to just have to  _deal_  with that, got it?"  
  
She smiled, finally. It was small but it was there. "Sorry, this is so petty to be dwelling on, especially after hearing about Melpomene and Thalia."  
  
"No, I get the whole, 'feeling inadequate' thing. And honestly I'd rather talk about how pretty you are than how Melpomene and Thalia died," Jack said. "Too many mixed feelings there."  
  
"Does it change your mind about her at all?" Rowan asked. He didn't need to clarify which of the two she was speaking about. Knowing Melpomene's past humanized her to an extent. However, that didn't take away the damage she'd caused in the time they had spent together all those years ago.  
  
"If she had been honest with me back then, if  _she_  had told me any of that instead of Thalia telling me  _now_  after all this shit already happened, maybe things could have gone differently.  _Maybe_ ," Jack said. "But the fact is: that didn't happen. The damage is done, and I don't really have any interest in seeing if she's any less terrible for my mental health now than she was all those years ago. Sometimes you cut ties and they have to stay that way. I'm not going to lose any sleep over whether or not I 'misjudged' her."  
  
"Probably for the best," Rowan nodded.  
  
"But this  _isn't_  a conversation about how pretty you are," Jack said.  
  
"Oh, that would be such a weird conversation, let's not," Rowan smiled.  
  
"What you don't want to hear me compare you to a summer's day?" he teased. "C'mon, Rowan, let me map out the stars in your freckles!"  
  
 _"What?_ "  
  
"Get lost in your eyes! Oh, the depths of your soul are so clearly present in them!"  
  
"Oh  _God_ , shut up!"  
  
"Why don't you make me?" Jack taunted, leaning his forehead against hers, so dangerously close. She smiled again, closing the distance between them in a brief kiss. "You don't taste like liquor anymore," he commented.  
  
She laughed slightly. "I think it's worn off by now."  
  
"Good, good," he said, kissing her again, thinking back to the comments she'd made to him while she was still buzzed earlier. "But you know, when you  _were_  very drunk, you started telling me about that dream, and stopped because 'oh, we're around other people' but…"  
  
"Oh, it would seem that we're alone now, aren't we?" she mumbled into his lips before pulling away just long enough to shift and pull her legs atop the bed with her. "Well, I accidentally shoved you into the lake, you see."  
  
"Accidentally," Jack repeated skeptically, lightly running his fingertips down the side of her neck, watching goose bumps appear in response to the frost that trailed close behind.  
  
"It  _was_  an accident. Well, then you threw  _me_  in and we were both just soaked. Of course, my stupid under dress was all basically see-through," she said, closing her eyes contently at his touch.  
  
 _"Now_  we're getting somewhere," he smirked.  
  
"Well, we couldn't go back to the village like that,  _obviously_ , so we were going to have to wait to dry off and, um, well, we found a way to pass the time," she said, cheeks turning red the more she spoke.  
  
"Like?" he prompted. She couldn't just leave him hanging  _there._  The amount he enjoyed listening to this was sort of ridiculous. The fact was that he couldn't help but be pleased about the fact that not only had she had a dream like  _this_  about him, but that it had gotten her so worked up.  
  
"Oh, this is embarrassing! Especially knowing  _Erato_  did this," Rowan mumbled.  
  
"She just  _inspired_  it, come on."  
  
"Fine, fine, you sort of," she stopped again, sighing, her cheeks burning. "You sort of pushed me back against the ground and started kissing me… and you ran your hands up my thighs to take off my stockings."  
  
"Oh, you  _liked_  that," Jack teased as she turned even redder (if possible) and avoided his eye yet again.  
  
"Well, there was something about how you did it, I don't know, stop  _smirking_  like that," Rowan sighed, glancing his way after a beat.  
  
"Smirking, who's smirking?" Jack said, that stupid grin still fixed on his face as he set aside his staff and leaned over to where she sat, gently pressing her back against the surface of the bed. She rolled her eyes, but smiled as he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Propping himself up with one arm, the other hand lightly traced the edge of her jaw, fingertips brushing down her throat.  
  
She shifted under him, re-positioning herself before sliding her hands to the back of his neck, pulling him further into the kiss, teasing his lips with her tongue. He was surprised for a moment, after all  _he_  was usually the first one to taunt her with his tongue, but he certainly wasn't complaining. He parted his lips.  
  
Her mouth was warm, her lips soft and her tongue much smoother in its movements than his usually was. He could feel his own temperature rising very, very slightly. His hand moved from her neck, reaching for her leg, exposed thanks to the slit in her skirt.  
  
"How's this?" he pulled away long enough to whisper as his hand slid from the side of her knee and up her thigh.  
  
"Acceptable," she shrugged, taking her turn to taunt him, though the way she sighed when he suddenly sent ice branching off his fingertips and across her skin gave away her contentment.  
  
 _"Acceptable?"_  he repeated in mock disappointment. Rowan began sitting upright, pushing him back into a seated position. She pulled at her skirt, adjusting it. "Well what did the  _dream_  version of me do next, then?"  
  
"Took off your shirt," Rowan said with a slight, nervous giggle, her cheeks turning red yet again as she pulled herself atop his lap, straddling him.  
  
"That's easy enough. Or, it  _was_  before all these buttons, neckties and waistcoats got involved," Jack scowled, glancing down at his formal attire before sliding off his jacket and setting it aside. How it had taken him so long to ditch something besides the shoes, he wasn't sure. Refocusing his attention to the girl so wonderfully close to him, he asked, "And did you climb on my lap like this?"  
  
"Yeah," she said, kissing him softly as she ran her fingers through his hair. "And you were all, trying to leave marks all over my neck. I had to try to get you  _back_  for that-"  
  
"That sounds familiar," Jack smirked.  
  
"Yeah, it would seem we already re-enacted that part before," Rowan rolled her eyes. If he truly looked closely, he could still find marks on her neck, mostly hidden by makeup she'd applied earlier.  
  
"Then what?" Jack asked, sliding his hands along her legs again, bringing them to a resting place near her waist.  
  
"Well, this is about when I woke up, like I said, we never really  _got_  to any sex or anything," Rowan said, grinning as Jack set his mouth to her throat, craning her neck so he had an easier time.  
  
"That's a shame," he spoke into her skin. His lips migrated to her collarbone, gently biting at it. She groaned softly.  
  
"I know, I woke up all… hot and bothered," she mumbled. He chuckled, running his hands along her sides.  
  
"Wish I'd been there for  _that_ ," he said.  
  
"Oh, I took care of it fine without you," Rowan said in a taunting, sing-song voice. His eyebrows shot up at this implication, smirk pulling at his lips again.  
  
"Oh? Did you and the shower head have a nice conversation about m-!" Jack started before she pressed her lips to his, cutting him off. This kiss was sloppy, hasty, but terribly fun. Her fingers were tangled in his hair and his hands slid around to her back, fingertips brushing against her zipper.  
  
"I'm gonna take the enthusiasm as a yes," he finally had a chance to say when she pulled away briefly to catch her breath. Her lips met his cheek and soon his jaw before gently, she bit at his ear, leaving him flinching with a soft groan.  
  
"I guess it's okay we didn't get that far in the dream, though," she said softly, her mouth still near his ear.  
  
"Yeah, save that for, uh, reality," he said, tightening his grip on her. His body temperature was rising again, still not enough for anyone besides him to notice.  
  
"Exactly," she said, leaning back enough to look him properly in the eye. They simply watched each other for a moment, desperation flashing behind each of their eyes before Rowan let go of him, setting a hand to her chest. Jack cocked a brow as she reached inside the top portion of her dress. He was about to ask what it was exactly that she was doing when she pulled out a small package.  
  
Well. She  _had_  mentioned purchasing condoms.  
  
"I don't have any pockets," she explained immediately. His eyes darted between her and the condom, still held gently in her hand. "And I, uh, I didn't know how this night was going to  _go_ , so-"  
  
It was Jack's turn to cut her off with a kiss, leaning over and setting her down on her back again. She gripped his collar, pulling him closer, seeming entirely fine with being interrupted in favor of this kiss.  
  
"You're sure about this?" he said between kisses.  
  
"Yes," she said immediately.  
  
He quickly moved to the side of her neck, kissing further down until he was met with the strap of her dress, tugging it down her shoulder. His hand was busy with her thigh again, sliding beneath her skirt.  
  
"And you thought  _I_  was being enthusiastic," she said, laughing softly as she busied her own hands by tugging at his dress shirt. Ice crawled across her skin wherever he touched her, melting away quickly in response to her body heat. He was quickly coming to realize that the longer they kept this up, the less control he had over those curling patterns.  
  
He barely had a moment to feel bad about it, about her shivering, as ice climbed up her thigh, beneath her dress and up her sides (it had to be uncomfortable, right?) when she groaned, arching her back and biting her lip. "Yes," she sighed contently, leaving him smiling against her skin.  
  
Rowan slid her hands beneath his shirt the moment she'd gotten it untucked, fingernails grazing his spine. Her touch was warm and soft. Everything about her was warm, soft and inviting. He swore each time she set a hand to him, she brought electricity with her.  
  
He wanted her. Did it need to be said? His heart was beating wildly, he found himself having to catch his breath between kisses far more often.  
  
Then the door to the room opened.  
  
Wait. What?  
  
Jack and Rowan were immediately pulled from their haze as their eyes met in confusion. Simultaneously, they turned to find none other than E. Aster Bunnymund standing at the door, rolling his eyes.  
  
"All right, you two, break it up," he said.  
  
"You've  _got_  to be kidding me," Jack said, finally finding his voice, still very much lying on top of Rowan with one hand gripping her thigh.  
  
"C'mon, Jack, we need you back out there, it can't wait, so straighten yourselves out," Bunny said, crossing his arms before his chest.  
  
 _"Seriously?_  Have you  _ever_  heard of knocking?" Jack said as Rowan gently pulled her hands away from Jack's torso. Jack followed suit by letting go of her and sitting upright.  
  
If looks could kill, Bunny would be dead three times over. This was starting to get into the  _well isn't this just typical_  category. How many times were they going to be interrupted by mythical beings or otherwise?  
  
"Have  _you_  ever heard of locking the door?" Bunny said, cocking a brow.  
  
"He's got a point," Rowan said, sitting up and moving so that both legs were on one side of Jack rather than having one of each gripping his sides. She slid to the edge of the bed, straightening her skirt before sliding her strap back up her shoulder.  
  
"What is it that's  _so_  important that it can't wait?" Jack demanded, still seated on the bed and very much disheveled.  
  
"You're needed out there," Bunny said again, gesturing outside the door. "Rowan, too, get yourselves straightened out."  
  
"Are you just going to stand there until we do?" said Jack.  
  
"Yes," Bunny said, smiling.  
  
"C'mon, Jack, the mood's kinda shot at this point," Rowan said, approaching the wall mirror and attempting to fix her hair. Jack simply scowled, shooting another glare in Bunny's direction before standing up and attempting to fix his shirt.  
  
"This is so  _stupid_ ," he muttered.  
  
"I mean, it's  _kind_  of funny," Rowan said. When he glanced her way he found that she was attempting not to laugh.  
  
"What? And if you crack a joke about  _how long_  it's been since I've been laid-" Jack started, his tone just  _dripping_  with frustration.  
  
"No! Well, yeah, that too," she said, finally laughing a bit. "No, but Jack. Think about it."  
  
"Think about  _what?"_  Jack said, pulling his jacket back on. The fact that they had been alone and  _very much_  having an intimate moment before Bunny just burst right in? The fact that what seemed like every time he wanted to act on his feelings for Rowan something  _always interrupted?_  
  
"The irony of this whole thing," Rowan said, gesturing to Bunny. "We were just cockblocked by a  _rabbit._  The spirit of  _spring_ even."  
  
Jack picked up his staff, which had fallen to the floor and considered this for a moment as Bunny rolled his eyes yet again. Spring was, of course, about new life and hope and all that, like Bunny had explained many times. But it was, of course, also supposed to be mating season for many species.  
  
And it had just prevented them from having sex.  
  
Jack couldn't help but laugh slightly as well, shaking his head as he grabbed for the condom, discarded on the bed, so sadly unopened, and tucked it into his pocket. "Well, I guess spring is in the habit of ruining my fun as it is."  
  
"Do I need to bring up every time you've interfered with  _my_  work?" Bunny said as Jack slid an arm around Rowan's waist and they walked past Bunny and out the door.  
  
"I thought we moved past all that," Jack said.  
  
"Three words, mate," Bunny said, passing them and continuing to walk a few paces ahead. "Blizzard of '68."  
  
 _"How are you still mad about that?_  It was almost fifty years ago!"  
  
"How about this," Bunny said, glancing back their way. "In fifty years, we'll see if  _you're_  still upset about  _this."_  
  
Jack scowled, yet again, unable to come up with a real response.  
  
"How'd you even find us?" Rowan asked.  
  
"Thalia," Bunny said.  
  
"We really should've locked the door," Rowan said, glancing back at Jack.  
  
"I wasn't thinking about things like  _doors_ ," Jack mumbled. No, he was thinking about Rowan and that slip she'd worn under her dress and the way she smelled and tasted and-  
  
Okay, he had to stop.  
  
"What is it that's so important?" Jack asked again.  
  
"You'll see," Bunny said as they approached the dance floor again. On the far end, the other Guardians could be found, all part of a group that had gathered around  _something_  laughing and smiling as they spoke. Calliope stood with Sandy, hands clasped, and Cupid was lurking close by, along with Thalia and Arachne.  
  
"Found 'em," Bunny said, re-joining the group. North turned to find Jack and Rowan a few steps behind and smiled, stepping aside to reveal what exactly it was that everyone was gathered around.  
  
He was a short man, with what seemed to be one long, curled strand of hair sticking straight up from his otherwise bald head. He had a kind face, wore a suit and smiled warmly at the new arrivals, offering Jack his hand.  
  
"It's nice to see you, Son," he said. Jack's irritation with Bunny was wiped from his mind, in fact most of his thoughts had come to a complete halt.  
  
This was the Man in the Moon.  
  
"Manny," Jack said in surprise, reaching a nervous hand to shake Manny's outstretched one. What was he supposed to say? It was the Man in the Moon! Here!  _Not_  in the moon! "I, uh… I'm blanking on what to say."  
  
"Don't worry about it, Son," Manny said, smile still on his face as he released Jack's hand. He turned his attention to Rowan, shaking her hand as well. "Miss Sawyer. I do apologize for all the trouble that's come your way recently."  
  
"Oh, it isn't your fault," Rowan smiled.  
  
"All the same," Manny said. "I will say I'm pleased with the job Jack has done keeping you safe thus far, I'm sure he'll keep up the good work."  
  
"Oh, he's taking  _excellent_  care of me," Rowan said, glancing Jack's way briefly with a small smile.  
  
"Very good," Manny smiled. "If he acts up, of course… Just tase him again."  
  
 _"Again?"_  Cupid said with a laugh.  
  
"Oh, Rowan tased Jack when they first met," Tooth smiled.  
  
"He  _broke into_  my apartment," Rowan added.  
  
"Here I thought everyone already knew," Jack sighed as yet another person took joy in the punishment he'd received when he first formally met his girlfriend.  
  
"Amazing how you went from that to this," Cupid said, shaking his head. "But I've seen stranger things, I suppose."  
  
"Oh! Well you know that old saying, Cupid," Thalia said as though she had simply been dying to deliver this line.  
  
Cupid sighed, as though this happened often. "What old saying, Aunt Thalia?"  
  
"The quickest way to a man's heart is through his chest!"  
  
"Ba-dum-tsh," Arachne said, miming the action of playing such a sound on a drum set.  
  
"Aw, you did the rimshot," Thalia said, seeming honestly touched.  
  
"Yeah, well," Arachne shrugged.  
  
"She thinks I'm funny, guys," Thalia said.  
  
"We're all very happy for you, Thalia," Tooth said, laughing slightly.  
  
"Do you come down a lot?" Jack said, finally thinking of  _something_  somewhat intelligent to say to Manny.  
  
"No, it's a lot of work, it's been a few centuries. Last time I was down here was… for your wedding, wasn't it, North?"  
  
"It was," North said with a nod.  
  
"You were much shorter then," Manny said, gesturing to Cupid.  
  
"Whose fault is  _that?"_  Cupid said with a sigh.  
  
"Now, now, your aging will be through in another few centuries, then you'll be static like the rest of us," Manny said.  
  
"Most of us," Bunny added, glancing Rowan's way. She shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"Most of us," Manny nodded. He turned his attention back to Jack and said, "But I wished to speak to you, Jack."  
  
"Yeah?" Jack said, feeling nervous suddenly. The past five minutes, Manny had already talked to him more than he had in the past three centuries. He wasn't used to him talking back and wasn't sure how to feel, not at all.  
  
"Yes, if we could-" Manny started before there was a crash heard on the outside balcony, drawing everyone's attention. A blinding light could be seen pouring in from the windows and what sounded like horses could be heard.  
  
North sighed, heading for the doors leading to said balcony. "He always lands  _there_. I have perfectly good runway!"  
  
"Who?" Jack asked.  
  
"Oh shit, it's Apollo, someone sober up Calliope," Thalia said, eyes wide.  
  
"I don't need to sober up," Calliope slurred. Sandy smiled nervously.  
  
"Apollo?" Rowan winced.  
  
"Did you not know he was coming? I assumed Urania would have been informed," Manny said. "He told me he was coming just before I arrived."  
  
"She left already, after we all checked on Mel," Thalia said. "You know how it gets when it gets later into the party. People get more drunk and they hit on her more, it makes her  _super_  uncomfortable."  
  
"She's not all that great with big crowds anyway," Arachne added. Manny nodded.  
  
"North! You really need to work on this balcony, I can't deal with these shaky landings," came a voice from the balcony.  
  
"Or, you could use runway which was  _built_ for landing flying creatures and vehicles on," said North.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," said the other man, stepping inside. He was a few inches shorter than North, and actually almost looked like the man.  
  
Well, if North was irresponsible, very thin, and spent too much time in a tanning bed. The man had long hair and a beard, but something told Jack that it wasn't white due to his age, but bleached, rather. By product or the sun, he couldn't say. His skin looked more like leather than flesh, being tanned an excessive amount. Even from a distance it was obvious.  
  
"If there was a personification of skin cancer," Rowan mumbled to Jack, "He'd be it." Jack tried to hide his smirk.  
  
The man wore large sunglasses that he pushed back to rest on his head, revealing eerie golden eyes. He wore several rings on his long, boney fingers, and each ring featured a different symbol. The most decorated ring featured an outline of a circle, with a solid circle within: the astrological symbol for the sun. Each of the Muses wore this symbol somewhere on their person.  
  
"Apollo!" Thalia said, smiling.  
  
"Lia," the man greeted, approaching the Muse and swiftly leaning over to kiss her forehead. "You're behaving yourself?"  
  
"Of course not," she said.  
  
"Of course not," Apollo said, shaking his head a bit. He turned his attention to Arachne, gesturing to the gold and white suit he wore. "Ara, my dear, you've outdone yourself again."  
  
"So glad the package got to you, I was wondering if you'd come and I'd get to see you wearing it," Arachne said, leaning over to exchange a kiss on the cheek with Apollo.  
  
"Cupid, Toothiana," Apollo greeted next.  
  
"Surya, it's nice to see you," Tooth said politely.  
  
"Hello," Cupid said, seeming to shift a bit nervously.  
  
"You got taller, my boy," Apollo said, reaching over and ruffling the boy's hair, leaving him sighing in frustration as it laid haphazardly once the older man removed his hand. Tooth giggled as he attempted to fix it.  
  
"Manny!" said Apollo, approaching the man in question. He had to practically kneel in order to reach Manny's hand to shake it.  
  
"Apollo, it's good to see you in person again," Manny said.  
  
"My sister's not here, is she?" Apollo said immediately, ignoring what Manny said entirely.  
  
"Artemis?" Manny said, seeming to become very uncomfortable all of a sudden, avoiding eye contact with Apollo. "Er, no, I don't believe so…"  
  
"Oh, good," said Apollo. "We're having another disagreement, she and I."  
  
"When are you two ever  _not_  having a disagreement?" Thalia asked.  
  
"She still brings up the Orion thing  _constantly_ ," Apollo said, shaking his head. "I think the last time we were on very good terms for a long period of time was… when we were working on Cupid's bow?"  
  
"So… almost two thousand years ago," Calliope said, her speech still slurred.  
  
"Calli!" Apollo said, as though he only just noticed the woman, he leaned over to kiss her cheek, which she only politely returned. "Good to see that a few hundred years hiatus hasn't destroyed your tradition of drinking  _far_  too much at these occasions."  
  
"Good to see you'll come down for a party but not when something's trying to kill us," Calliope said. Thalia immediately shook her head from her position behind Apollo, so he could not see but Calliope could.  
  
"Come now, Calliope, don't be that way," Apollo said.  
  
"I can't do all this myself, Apollo!" Calliope said, those nearby all winced. Thalia was now running her finger across her throat as though to tell Calliope to stop talking.  
  
"Now, now, quiet down, you're drunk," Apollo said, his tone condescending.  
  
"So what, it's still true! You just set us loose and I- I need help, you didn't give us  _anything_  to work with, and-"  
  
"Hush," Apollo said. "You know I have work to do with the sun, I cannot abandon my post. We all have responsibilities."  
  
"We need your help, you're the goddamn  _sun god_  and  _shadows are after us_ , why can't you just… just take care of it?" Calliope demanded.  
  
"Oh, my, why didn't  _I_  think of that?" Apollo said sarcastically. "Have you not noticed that during the daylight hours you  _are completely safe?_  I'm doing all I can without disturbing the natural order, you should be  _grateful_." Apollo turned to Sandy and added, "Honestly, Morpheus, I don't know how you put up with her when she's in this state."  
  
"You know what?" Calliope said. "I am sick and tired of people questioning Sanderson and I. 'Oh, Sandy, Calliope's such a bitch, why are you with her?' 'Oh, Calliope, Sanderson is so  _short_ , what do you see in him?'"  
  
She turned from Apollo and looked to the rest of the room, most of which had stopped to eavesdrop anyway "Listen up!" she said, pointing to Sandy. "This man is a brave warrior. He's caring, and he's  _funny_  and he creates beautiful visions of impossible things. If that isn't my type, I'd certainly  _love_  to hear what you all think it is. Oh, oh what's that? None of you have anything to say? Funny!"  
  
Jack couldn't help but like Calliope in that moment, strangely enough. She was drunk, she was angry, and they had never once gotten along before this moment. But the things she said about Sandy were true, and it was nice to hear her say them about him. Sandy, too, seemed pleased, if not a bit concerned about her shouting.  
  
Images flashed above Sandy's head. "I don't want to lie down, Sanderson," Calliope mumbled.  
  
"You should lie down, sober up," Apollo said, clearly unamused. "Morpheus will keep an eye on you, I'm sure." Sandy nodded.  
  
"You're not the boss of me," Calliope said.  
  
"Actually, my dear, I am. Go lie down," Apollo said softly, but sternly. "I will not hold this against you later because you are not in your right mind. But do not push me any further."  
  
Calliope was about to say something else when Sandy pulled on her hand, offering her a reassuring smile. She sighed before walking off with him to another part of the pole.  
  
"Nine of them, I have to deal with  _nine_  of them," Apollo said, shaking his head. He turned, his eye catching Rowan before saying, "Ten, actually. Hello, there."  
  
"Hello," Rowan said nervously. Apollo approached, gently setting a hand to either one of her shoulders. He smiled.  
  
"Illustration. Wouldn't that be a fun addition to the group?" he said thoughtfully before swiftly kissing Rowan's forehead. She didn't seem to know how to react to this. "So nice to meet you, Rowan."  
  
"And you," she replied, her voice small.  
  
Apollo glanced Jack's way. "Frost," he said. "Keep up your good work. This soul's no good to me if the Shadow People have it."  
  
"Her soul's no good to-? She's got more of a purpose than a potential addition to your collection," Jack couldn't stop himself from saying. Something about the way Apollo spoke to and about Rowan was just unsettling, like she truly was just a potential new toy.  
  
"He's not wrong," Manny said with a nod.  
  
"My apologies, of  _course_  we don't want Rowan being killed by the Shadow People regardless," Apollo said. He immediately turned his attention away from Jack, Manny and Rowan and refocused on Thalia. "Where's Mel?"  
  
"Why?" Thalia asked.  
  
"Manny and I have an agreement," Apollo said.  _"I_  will be the one speaking to her about her behavior recently."  
  
"It's sort of a bad time," Thalia said hesitantly. "She's really-"  
  
"Never mind," Apollo said, turning his heel and walking off. "I'll just follow the sound of the  _weeping."_  
  
"Fascinating individual," North said, shaking his head as Apollo continued across the room and away from the group.  
  
"Can't say I'm crushed that he so rarely visits us," Bunny said with a roll of the eye.  
  
"Calliope shouldn't have gotten in his face like that," Thalia said weakly. "He-"  
  
"He's a complicated man," Arachne said.  
  
"I think  _that_  might actually be the understatement of the century," Cupid commented.  
  
"Jack, perhaps now that Apollo is not causing a ruckus, we can step aside to talk?" Manny said.  
  
"Yeah, definitely," Jack said. He paused a moment before turning to Rowan and saying, "You, uh, don't go hanging out with any more death deities while I'm gone?"  
  
"Oh, no, I'm probably just going to stick around here," Rowan assured him. "But don't take  _too_  long, all right?"  
  
"I won't," he said, following Manny, who lead the way to the far window, which was a mostly vacant area. When Jack glanced out the window and to the balcony, he found a grand, horse-drawn chariot outside. The horses' manes were made of what seemed to be some kind of flames, and the light they gave off was sort of painful to look at.  
  
"Don't stare too long," Manny warned. "That's almost like staring at the sun."  
  
Jack returned his attention to the small man in front of him. "Good to know," he said. "What did you need to talk to me about?"  
  
"I believe it's  _you_ , Jack, that needs to talk to me," Manny said, smiling softly. Jack furrowed his brow, thinking back to all the hundreds of times over the years that he'd stopped to talk to Manny and received no response. And now here he was, speaking to him freely.  
  
"Why didn't you ever respond to me? In three hundred years?" Jack had to ask.  
  
"I understand that was painful for you, and I apologize for that," Manny said, his tone suggesting nothing but sincerity. "But I believe there are certain things that one must learn for oneself, or the lesson isn't worth anything. Besides, Jack, I may see many things, but I am not all-knowing. No one is."  
  
Jack nodded slowly, unsure how else to respond to that. Things had certainly worked out for him in the end (at least so far), but he couldn't help but still feel as though his path to this point didn't have to be  _so_  difficult.  
  
He looked back to the group they had just left, Rowan and Tooth each examining the other's dress with Cupid close by. He frowned slightly before asking, "What am I supposed to do about Rowan? The fact that she's mortal?"  
  
"All I can tell you when it comes to the Mortal Muse is that you two should live your story," Manny said with a nod, as though he had just completely cleared things up.  
  
"Live our story?" Jack repeated, puzzled.  
  
"Live your story," Manny nodded again.  
  
"I should have known that if I ever got you to actually answer my questions you'd be all cryptic," Jack sighed. Manny simply smiled.  
  
"Is there anything else, Jack?"  
  
"I don't think so," Jack said. "Apollo's kind of a trip."  
  
"Apollo and I do not agree about everything. But he is important for the natural balance and order of things. He is a valuable ally," Manny said.  
  
"If you say so," Jack said.

* * *

  
  
Polyhymnia had left only after Melpomene asked her to, leaving the girl sitting on the floor of the guest room, picking at some peeling wallpaper. When she'd initially sat down, the section of wallpaper that had begun to peel was no larger than a quarter inch, and very easy to miss. Now it was a mess. A complete, terrible bald spot on the wall.  
  
But it was something else to focus on. Something that wasn't her eternity without the only thing she ever truly cared about.  
  
The door to the room opened and she scowled, certain she'd locked it when Polyhymnia had left. She pulled herself to her feet and turned around, ready to confront whoever decided to disturb her moment of bleak solitude when she recognized the slim, tan man that had entered.  
  
"Apollo," she said.  
  
"Mel," he greeted with a smile, approaching her. He shook his head slightly at her smeared makeup, running his thumbs below her eyes in an attempt to fix it before lightly kissing her forehead. "Tsar Lunar is very upset with you, Pet."  
  
"Tell him to get in line," she sighed, stepping away from Apollo and sitting atop the bed.  
  
"I know you did what you had to do  _for_  the alliance by seeming to work against it. You must be careful, though, that the wrong _people_  don't find out about your manipulating Jack Frost. Lucky for you, Manny doesn't want to jeopardize the alliance by exposing you," Apollo said, taking a seat beside her. "What  _I_  cannot accept, however, is your assisting Pitch Black in bringing fear to one of your own sisters."  
  
"Rowan? They were just nightmares, they don't hurt her," Melpomene said.  
  
"Leaving her alone with him earlier this evening so that he may feed on her fear while she was unable to defend herself is unacceptable, Melpomene. But then, you  _know_  that, don't you?"  
  
Melpomene shifted uncomfortably. It was true, the entire time she'd been on the dance floor while Pitch was off speaking with Rowan, she'd had a terrible knot in her stomach that didn't go away until Pitch returned.  
  
"Lucky for you, Jack Frost seems able to take away her fear with minimal effort. I suppose then, I can understand your justification of your actions, as she has not been physically harmed. But it is ridiculous that I must  _remind you_  that your loyalty should be to me and to your sisters, not to the Nightmare King."  
  
"It is!" Melpomene said, groaning in frustration.  
  
"Good," said Apollo. "Now, what has you so upset this time, Pet?"  
  
She could feel tears rushing to her eyes again as she even considered relaying back to Apollo why she was sitting alone in this room after sobbing on Polyhymnia's shoulder. Why did she have to talk about this anymore? Nothing ever changed.  
  
"Pet?"  
  
"I thought," she said, her voice cracking. It was hitting her all over again. Memories echoed across her mind, the voice she once had, Euterpe's voice. Her throat itched with memories of having once been able to  _speak_  without that awful, scratching feeling. "I thought I could listen to Euterpe sing."  
  
"A bad day for music, then. Such a shame," Apollo said. He'd said this same thing to her many times before, and it was clear in the way he spoke now. It sounded like a line, rehearsed.  
  
"If you really believed that, you'd give me back my voice," Melpomene said, standing up and taking a place before him to properly look him in the eye, so desperate. "Please, I know you can."  
  
"We've been over this. I gave you what I could," Apollo said simply. Melpomene's heart swelled, it seemed about to burst with sadness. He was her only hope, her only shot at this. "Come now, Melpomene, you've got a job to do."  
  
A job. A divine duty. This was to be her eternity, spreading more tragedy in the world. She inspired works of art with the saddest of stories and in doing so brought a strange sort of hope to the artists, to the audience.  
  
But never to herself. It was exhausting. She was tired. So tired. Tears rolled down her face and she found herself falling to her knees before the man that assigned her this life, this eternity.  
  
In this moment she hated herself more than one could imagine. Because in this moment she found herself to be weak. A sad, desperate girl, reduced to begging.  
  
"Please, Apollo,  _please_  give me back my voice! Please, I'll do anything, I'll give you anything you want, I'll be a better person, I'll be a  _worse_  person but  _please._ It hasn't gotten any better, please give it back!" she said, unable to help the sobs that came with her words.  
  
"Oh, Mel. You know that's the exact reason I can't."  
  
"I don't want to be Tragedy! I don't want to do this anymore,  _please_."  
  
"I'm afraid you don't have any choice. You have your decades or so where you embrace and accept your fate, this is only a minor setback. You will find joy in tragedy again, my dear, things will be all right."  
  
Melpomene looked up at him desperately, the pain in her chest growing with each word he said. "Please. It's all I want in the world, all I've ever wanted.  _Please."_  
  
"You know you will not get it back, Mel, you're lucky I gave you what you have to speak with. You can go to every witch, sorcerer and magician out there and they will not be able to give it back to you."  
  
"All I want is to sing again. It's all I want, I'll still do my job, please, I'm sorry about what I said before. I'll still be Tragedy, I'll be a great Tragedy but with my voice, I promise. Please."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"You  _won't."_  
  
Apollo simply smiled, softly. "The world needs you just the way you are."  
  
"No," she shook her head.  
  
"Yes," he nodded his, pulling himself to his feet. "Get cleaned up, Pet. Don't stay hidden too long."  
  
"Apollo, wait," Melpomene said.  
  
"We're done here," Apollo said at the doorway, "I can't stay down here long, I must speak to your other sisters and return to the sun."  
  
"I'm just so tired," she said, more to herself than to him, glancing down at the floor and trying to keep herself from sobbing any more. When she glanced up again, she found that Apollo had left. She was alone again.  
  
"I'm so tired. I'm so tired of all this," she sighed. From the shadows behind her emerged a figure. She barely turned her head, knowing very well who it was. He offered his hand and after a moment of hesitation, she took it and came to her feet once more.  
  
"It seems your evening has been cheerful as well," Pitch observed, his tone sarcastic.  
  
"Things didn't go well with your daughter, I suppose?" Melpomene said, taking the black handkerchief that Pitch gently handed to her and wiping at her eyes.  
  
"Let's just say we're not about to plan on spending Easter Sunday together," said Pitch. "Your past has come back to haunt you."  
  
"I suppose you can put it that way," Melpomene sighed.  
  
"I don't know about you, but I don't see the point in continuing to hang around here much longer," said Pitch. "I'd much rather ring in the new year in my dark hole in the ground."  
  
"That sounds… much better than this," Melpomene nodded, taking out her mask from seemingly nowhere, glancing at the weeping skull that adorned it for no longer than a few seconds before fastening it to her face.  
  
"Let's go," Pitch said, taking her hand in his. In the next instant they were gone.

* * *

  
  
"We missed the New Year in Massachusetts," Rowan commented, she and Jack swaying slowly around the dance floor, her arms around his neck and his securely around her waist. After he'd spoken to Manny, the song had started and they had taken note that they hadn't attempted a slow dance at all that evening.  
  
"Oh yeah? When was that?" Jack asked.  
  
"Like, two and a half hours ago, apparently. Shame," she said with a shrug. "Was looking forward to participating in the dumb New Years kiss tradition, honestly."  
  
"To be fair we were probably making out during  _some_  time zone's New Year," Jack shrugged.  
  
"Very true," Rowan smiled, gently pressing her lips to his for a brief moment. "Happy New Year anyway."  
  
"Happy New Year," he said. The song came to an end and they pulled away from each other, joining in the polite applause for the band before they started their next song.  
  
Rowan took Jack's hand, leading the way away from the dance floor and down the nearby hall. There was barely anyone there, and when they ducked behind one of the large pillars, they were mostly out of sight.  
  
"I'm getting tired of crowds," she said, leaning back against said pillar.  
  
"Yeah, same here," he said, leaning in to kiss her again. It was initially supposed to be a brief, sweet kiss, but Rowan set her hands to his neck, pulling him in closer. He seemed completely fine with this, his free hand wandering to her hip, pulling her away from the pillar and against him.  
  
"Jack-" Rowan started before he closed the gap between their lips again. She soon found herself groaning as he bit at her bottom lip. She pulled back again after a few moments and attempted to speak again. "Jack," she said.  
  
"Hm?" he replied.  
  
"There's no one else here we have to talk to, right?" she said.  
  
"I don't think so," he said.  
  
"Then let's go back to my parents' house?" Rowan said, her heart racing as she elaborated. "They won't be back until the afternoon. No one will be around to interrupt us…"  
  
She leaned in, her mouth to his ear, gently biting at it (and still pleased that she'd managed not to cause him real pain the last few times she had attempted this) before whispering, "I need to get  _out_  of this dress."  
  
"Let's go get a snow globe," Jack said immediately, taking her by the hand and pulling her along as he lead the way to the room that North kept said items stored in. Rowan couldn't help the dumb smile pulling at her lips at his response, quickening her pace to keep up with him.  
  
They reached a door being guarded by a yeti, who eyed Jack critically the moment the couple showed up. "Ben," Jack said. "Guess you're guarding the globes?"  
  
The yeti nodded.  
  
"Can we have one? We're  _leaving_ ," Jack said, as though him departing the pole was his best bargaining chip. Ben nodded and pushed the door open, disappearing inside. The moment the yeti disappeared from view, Jack returned his attention to Rowan, pulling her close.  
  
His kisses were becoming more urgent, and she couldn't say she didn't enjoy it. She loved every bit of friction, every flick of his tongue and every freezing, twisting design that climbed across her skin.  
  
Ben cleared his throat, having returned with the snow globe in hand. Jack pulled away, offering the yeti an "innocent" smile before taking the snow globe and thanking him.  
  
He whispered Rowan's address to the snow globe before tossing it forward, the twirling portal appearing before them.  
  
"Let's get the hell out of here," he said, taking her hand again.  
  
"Let's," she agreed.


	44. This Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, guys, as I implied in the last chapter, this one is without a doubt **Not Safe For Work**. This is the first time I'm posting a chapter like this, so hopefully I did an okay job and everything makes sense. I keep proof-reading and messing with things until I finally got to the point where it's like "Well. This is as good as it's going to get."

_"Excited?"_

_"Something tells me I’m not the only one."_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Four: This Moment**

* * *

  
  
Rowan grabbed for Jack's shoulder as she found herself stumbling again. Going through the portals was always so strange, as though the entire world had suddenly been pulled from beneath her feet. He steadied her, as he always seemed to have to, as she pulled herself back into an upright position, smiling nervously the whole way.  
  
"Think you'll ever be able to do this without falling?" Jack teased, gently propping his staff against the wall near her bedroom door.  
  
"But if I do  _that_ , I won't have an excuse to be so grabby with you," Rowan said, sliding her hands from his shoulder and around to the back of his neck.  
  
"You don't need an excuse," he laughed before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him. He kissed her, briefly, hungrily, before suddenly pulling away and eyeing her skeptically. "You're absolutely  _sure_  your parents aren't going to be making an appearance?"  
  
Rowan frowned slightly, pulling away from him before walking to her bedroom door, pulling it open. She could understand Jack's hesitation. They'd been interrupted so many times in the past, even with something as simple as a kiss.  
  
If it wasn't Jamie throwing a snowball at them or unannounced visitors arriving to demand attention from one of them, it was her mother or the goddamned Easter Bunny bursting into the room at the worst moment. At least once the semester started again, she'd be back in her own apartment and they should be able to get a moment's peace.  
  
Well, when she wasn't doing homework or stuck at her work study job. How frustrating. All she wanted was one, uninterrupted night with the boy. Not even a full night, just a couple of  _hours_.  
  
"Mom? Dad? You didn't inexplicably come home early, did you?" she called. She waited a moment, waited for any kind of indication that there were other living beings inside the dark, quiet house.  
  
None came.  
  
She walked away from the door, approaching her discarded phone on her desk and turning on her desk lamp. She picked up her phone, swiping her thumb across the screen and finding that she had several text messages. When she scrolled through them, she found a silly picture of a very drunk Shirley and Adam, a few New Years greetings from others, and finally a message from her mother, which is what she'd been looking for. Dot wished Rowan a Happy New Year and assured her that she'd see her and Bill tomorrow (well, technically today) in the late afternoon.  
  
That was exactly what she wanted to read. Rowan shut her phone off and returned her attention to Jack.  
  
"We're all alone," she said, heart racing as the words passed her lips and he walked over to where she stood, smirking that stupid, borderline evil smirk of his. She'd daydreamed about this, she'd thought that  _perhaps_  tonight might be the night it actually happened (and then a series of other, strange events had happened instead). Now that it was  _actually_  happening and there was no one around to interrupt, she couldn't help the nerves.  
  
There wasn't much turning back after this, but she'd never wanted another person the way she ached for Jack. It was entirely ridiculous.  
  
"All alone," he repeated, reaching forward to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips brushing ever so slightly against the side of her neck before pulling his hand away. Goose bumps immediately appeared. "Feels like a trick at this point."  
  
"It's the universe getting back at you for all  _your_  tricks, I imagine," Rowan said with a slight shrug, attempting to play it off as though she was  _not_  torn between throwing herself at him and having to sit down until her nerves over this subsided. She busied her slightly shaking hands with the pins in her hair, letting the twisted braids fall against her skin and begin to unravel.  
  
"Right, clearly  _my_  fault," Jack said with a slight roll of the eye.  
  
"Well, what would the universe be getting back at  _me_  for?" Rowan said innocently, setting the pins down on her desk before combing through her hair with her fingers, completely untwisting the braids. Her hair tugged at her scalp strangely as it became re-acquainted with  _not_  being pinned in various positions.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, Little Miss Nice List," he taunted. "Always doing what you're supposed to do, always trying to be polite, probably on the goddamn  _honor roll._ "  
  
"Dean's List, actually" she shrugged, shivering slightly as he reached forward, fingering the strap on her dress.  
  
"Of course," he smirked. "Honestly, Sawyer, I don't know why you even associate with me. Obviously, I'm a bad influence."  
  
"You think you've got influence over me, Frost?" Rowan smiled, as though her fingers were not itching to touch him, as though her lips didn't yearn for his. As though the way he touched the strap on her dress was not a terrible, terrible tease.  
  
"I think you're hanging on to the nice list by a thread," Jack said, pulling at her strap as though to use it as an example of this metaphorical thread. "And if you want to stay on it, you really,  _really_  should consider staying away from me."  
  
"It would probably be for the best; you're nothing but trouble, Jack Frost," she said, biting her bottom lip as she eyed his.  
  
"Exactly," he whispered. Cue the smirk, that stupid, terrible,  _wonderful_  smirk.  
  
She reached forward, wrapping her fingers securely around his necktie, using it to pull him into her lips. He fumbled for a moment, seeming surprised at "Little Miss Nice List's" sudden action before accepting it, opening his mouth with hers so that their tongues might meet again.  
  
It really hadn't been long since they'd last kissed. Minutes, perhaps. But the amount of want, the way they practically  _pawed_  at each other made it seem as though they had been deprived for years.  
  
Frost and ice twisted, curled from her lips and down her chin, never lingering long before it melted. Her teeth grew cold the more his tongue found its way into her mouth. She shivered.  
  
One of his hands had slowly been tugging on the strap of her dress, along with the strap of her slip, pulling it down her shoulder. The other was occupied with her hair, running his fingers through the dyed locks now that they had been let down. When he could no longer pull her strap any further down,  _both_  hands found their way into her hair.  
  
She fiddled with the tie until it slid off his neck before carelessly setting it aside. Rowan ran her hands over his chest, picturing what lie beneath the fabric before pushing his jacket off his shoulders.  
  
The image of him shirtless had long taunted her. She wanted to see his toned stomach again, she wanted to touch him, to feel his cold skin.  
  
Jack didn't seem to have a problem with this at all. He moved his hands from her hair in order to properly slide the jacket off and toss it over her desk chair. Rowan's fingertips had barely brushed against the buttons of his waistcoat before she found herself groaning into his lips.  
  
It would seem that he had decided that sliding his hand within the slip of her dress and over her thigh, sending ice down her leg, was far more entertaining than continuing to play with her hair. His hand slid higher, beneath the dress, beneath her slip so he might trace the edge of her hip with his thumb. His other hand brushed over her back.  
  
Fumbling now, she unbuttoned his waistcoat, forcing his hand away in order to properly pull it off. She pulled away from his lips, allowing each of them to catch their breath a moment.  
  
Rowan's lips found his jaw and his hands found her hair again, taking his turn to flinch and groan as her teeth grazed against his skin. It was nice to hear  _him_  react to what she was doing; nice to know that she was keeping up just fine without any sort of temperature-related powers.  
  
Not that she was complaining about  _his_  temperature-related powers or the advantage they gave him with her. There was something exciting about the goose bumps and the quickly-melting ice. There was something wonderful about the way her breath came in fog whenever she was this close to him.  
  
Jack's fingertips climbed from her hair down to her spine, leaving her shivering again as frost traveled beneath her clothes. He seemed to hesitate, toying with the zipper on the back of her dress until she bit at his ear again. He groaned in response, finally pulling at the zipper.  
  
Rowan found herself holding her breath as the dress loosened. Why was she so  _nervous?_  He'd already seen her wearing only the slip earlier.  
  
"You all right?" he mumbled into her ear, his hands pausing, fists full of the fabric of the dress, the fabric she'd labored over ever since she received her invitation to the ball.  
  
"Yeah… yeah, don't stop," she breathed, leaning away for just a moment to make it a bit easier as he pulled at her dress. After having to put forward a bit more effort to get it past her hips, the dress slid to the floor in a pile. As she gently stepped out of it, kicking it aside, she realized that she had left her shoes back at the North Pole.  
  
Oops.  
  
Her heart swelled as she caught his eye again, unable to help the smile that came as soon as  _he_  smiled at her. Her nerves seemed to lessen; she found it easier to breathe. And all without him sending one of those magic snowflakes her way, even.  
  
It seemed that the way he could ease her mind, make her smile, make her laugh, had nothing at all to do with magic. No, it had everything to do with how much she liked him. It was a dangerous, absolutely  _dangerous_  amount. Maybe that was why she was nervous.  
  
She cared about him too much. She wanted things to go well.  
  
The girl rested her forehead against Jack's, reaching for the buttons on his dress shirt and hastily unfastening them. He quickly locked lips with her once more, distracting her significantly and leaving her to fumble with the buttons blindly.  
  
That was sort of fun, too, however, groping at him to find the next button down the line, all while he bit at her bottom lip and slid his hands along her now-exposed thighs. Jack's hands slid beneath the soft, black fabric of the slip, over her hips, fingers pausing only to toy with the lace lining the pretty underwear she'd picked for the evening.  
  
Not that it mattered what they looked like, honestly. But they had gone nicely with the slip, and it would be a lie to say she hadn't taken some form of satisfaction at the way Jack had watched her in it before they left for the ball.  
  
What was more important now, however, was not the way he looked at her but the way he touched her, the way he taunted her by simply brushing his hands along the fabric but  _not quite_  doing anything just yet.  
  
His shirt was now entirely unbuttoned, and she wasted no time tracing his chest with her fingertips, memorizing every contour. Jack gently pushed her back a step or two until she was leaning against the wall, his body pressed against hers. She could feel the noticeably growing bulge below his belt and couldn't help but smile into his lips.  
  
"Excited?" she teased. The smile was wiped from her face almost immediately, however, as she let out a brief cry in surprise. Jack had leaned away, just slightly, just enough to slide his hand around to the front of her underwear. His cold fingers had slid beneath the fabric, brushing over her wet opening.  
  
"Something tells me I'm not the only one," he taunted right back. Even if she wanted to respond with actual words, she couldn't find it in herself to do much besides gripping his shoulders tightly and groaning as his fingers moved. That wasn't fair at  _all_.  
  
Jack's other hand grabbed for one of her breasts as he kissed her again. She whimpered into his lips, simply causing more friction as he slid a finger inside her, followed quickly by a second. His hands were so cold, his tongue so taunting in her mouth. Another finger, she shivered.  
  
" _Yes_ ," Rowan gasped, moving her hips with his fingers, just slightly. She could feel herself growing warmer and warmer still, her breath coming in fog every time their lips broke away from each other. Excitement was building up inside her when she ran her trembling hands down his chest again, fumbling with his belt to unfasten it.  
  
Gently, she reached for his hand, pulling it away from her despite her body's protests at this action. She pulled at his dress shirt, still securely on his shoulders despite being unbuttoned, and tugged it off of him. She took a moment to enjoy the view in the dim light: his slim torso, chest rising and falling with his increasingly heavy breathing.  
  
She caught his eye and bit her lip before setting her hands to his shoulders again, stepping forward, leaving him with little choice than to step back. He smiled, cocking a brow at her as this continued, as though wondering what exactly it was she was up to. Soon enough, he fell back against her bed. He sat upright reaching for her thighs again before she interrupted his attempts by pushing him to his back and climbing on top of him.  
  
Rowan's lips found his throat and quickly worked their way down to his torso, her fingers tracing his chest again, her breath clouding against his skin. He groaned, hands to her hair again as she went.  
  
She wanted to make him flinch the way she had. She let her fingernails brush against the button of his pants, the zipper, teasing as her lips grazed his stomach. It was his turn to shiver, and she knew it certainly wasn't from cold.  
  
Her fingertips drew circles in the fabric for a moment before finally unfastening the button, pulling at the zipper. She hooked her fingers into the belt loops, pulling down in time for Jack's hands to leave her hair to assist her in removing his last article of clothing.  
  
She ran her fingers along his length, leaving him flinching as she went. Gently, ever so softly, her hands still tracing circles into his skin, Rowan lowered her mouth.  
  
Jack swore, crying out and gripping at her hair again as her tongue moved. This only encouraged her, his breathing increasing and frost branching out from his hands, into her hair and down her neck, leaving her to groan as well. "Rowan," he gasped. She didn't respond; she couldn't, really, not vocally.  
  
She  _did_  like hearing him say her name that way, though. His hips moved with her, only for a moment before gently tugging at her hair to pull her away. She climbed over him again, watching him with a raised brow as though to ask why he called her off so soon.  
  
"You're making things hard for me," he said simply.  
  
"In more ways than one, evidently," she whispered, causing him to laugh before pulling her down into his lips hungrily. The frost that coated her mouth and trailed behind his hands seemed to be becoming more erratic as they continued. She could swear he was slightly less cold when she touched him, as well.  
  
Still distracting her with his lips, his hand wandered to her back. She was still wearing her black slip, the back portion clasped shut with hooks as it was meant to act in place of a bra. His mouth's movements slowed as he fiddled with the hooks, fighting him the whole way.  
  
"Having trouble?" Rowan asked, unable to help the giggling that followed.  
  
"Shut  _up_ ," he mumbled into her mouth, still working on the first hook. She simply laughed further. "Look, women's underwear has changed over the years, I haven't had to deal with hooks like this,  _hold still."_  
  
She wiggled in his grasp defiantly, still giggling. "Do you want me to-"  
  
"No, I've got it," he said, laughing slightly now as well. She began kissing the side of his neck again, still grinning as he finally got one of the hooks to give, quickly moving on to the next one. Once he'd successfully unhooked each clasp on the back of the slip, Rowan pulled away from him, climbing off the bed and standing before him.  
  
She smiled, nervous again as he sat upright, eyes never leaving her. She pulled at the slip and he reached forward, taking handfuls of the fabric to help her pull it off of her. She was left only in the underwear he'd been teasing earlier. Jack set his hands to her hips, leaving her groaning as ice quickly rushed across her skin in all directions.  
  
He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties, gently pulling them down and away. She sat back atop the bed, locking lips with him again as he leaned over her, causing her to lie back as his hands explored her newly exposed skin.  
  
It would seem she wasn't the only one attempting to map out the other's torso, his hands tracing every curve. He particularly seemed fixated on her tattoo, outlining it in frost at every given opportunity before. Now was no exception as ice climbed along the side of her ribcage and her stomach.  
  
"Condom," she reminded him between gasps, twitching as frost ran down her torso to the most sensitive of areas. He nodded, kissing her briefly before pulling away, leaning over to retrieve his discarded pants and go through the pockets. She took this time to adjust her position atop the bed, pushing her sweat-soaked bangs from her face.  
  
He leaned over her again, kissing her gently as she ran her fingertips down his chest, his stomach, and once again, his length. He twitched at the sensation, groaning as his mouth moved down her jaw and to her neck.  
  
"I need you," he said softly into her ear, making her heart race further, if possible.  
  
"I need  _you_ ," she groaned. "Take me, Jack."  
  
He kissed her again, briefly, before leaning away. This was it. She bit her lip again as he adjusted his position slightly. She wanted this; she wanted him  _so badly_. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.  
  
He gently began to press into her. Chills rushed up and down her spine as he went, freezing cold and excruciatingly slowly.  
  
" _Ooooh,_ " she moaned. Jack kissed her again, muffling the sounds they each made as he slid all the way into her. He began to rock his hips into hers, causing only the slightest friction. She rolled her hips back into his in response, gripping his shoulders.  
  
Her nerves were quickly replaced by the excitement that was building up within her again. Her lips were going numb the more they came in contact with his; her body heat was in a constant battle with his touch, with the ice that formed along with it. Ice would melt against her skin and re-freeze when he touched her again.  
  
And  _did he touch her_. Had she not been so distracted by how wonderfully this all felt, she'd wonder if her own powers were acting up or if Jack was just very perceptive. He touched every place she wanted him to, just the  _way_  she wanted him to.  
  
He pulled his lips from hers, their breath coming in gasps, interrupted only by moans. She opened her eyes, locking her gaze with his. His pace quickened and her grip tightened, fingernails dragging along his back, frost climbing up her fingers, across her hands in response.  
  
" _Jack,"_  she breathed. Nothing mattered. Nothing at all mattered except for this boy, this frustrating, sarcastic, irritating, _wonderful_  boy and the way he was making her feel.  
  
His eyes were such a frustrating shade of blue.  
  
She arched her back, frost climbing up her spine and groaned.  _"Yes_ ," she said. He hit the same spot again. This, combined with what his hands were doing, with the ice climbing across her flesh, was all she wanted at that moment. She swore, still rocking her hips with his.  
  
Jack was doing his own share of groaning, though she saw him smile as she continued to react to his movements, now that he had found such a sensitive spot. The excitement building up within her was getting to be too much, and she was certain that she was going to burst soon.  
  
" _Rowan_ ," he mumbled in that same desperate way he had before.  
  
"Oh, oh,  _oooh_ ," was the most intelligent thing Rowan could bring herself to say before crying out, "Jack!"  
  
She was so close, so incredibly close, eyes still fixed on his. She found herself whimpering every second that passed without her completely going over the edge, back still arching, still groaning.  
  
And then she reached it: her peak, their entire goal. Her hips bucked uncontrollably, her nails digging into his back again and cries of joy, cries of his name escaped her throat. Her legs trembled, nothing was in her control anymore and she couldn't care less as everything that had been building up inside her racked throughout her.  
  
Jack began to tremble with her, meeting his own end in time for his cries to mix with hers. Frost coated her skin as he clung to her tighter, lingering much longer this time before melting away. The temperature of the whole room seemed to drop; the heat kicked in to high gear. Snow outside her window began to fall violently.  
  
This should have shocked her out of her haze, but instead, she swore the ice sent more tremors through her body.  
  
She attempted to catch her breath as his pace slowed to a stop, the boy leaning against her as he gasped for air as well. He pressed his lips to hers, this kiss softer, far more tender than the others had been. When they broke away, he rolled off of her.  
  
The room was still cold, but the snow outside had slowed considerably.  
  
Rowan sat upright, slowly, and turned to face Jack, smiling slightly as she reached to push his disheveled hair back. She leaned over, kissing him again before saying, "I'll be right back."  
  
She slid to the edge of the bed, pulling herself to her feet. As soon as she took a step, however, she found herself nearly falling, her legs still shaking. That all too familiar laugh shortly followed. "You okay?" Jack asked, still chuckling.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. You know, trying to remember how to walk," Rowan replied, trying to shrug it off, her next steps far more careful.  
  
"Hopefully you're not still walking funny when your parents get home," he said in a sing-song voice as she approached her bedroom door. She glanced back at him, sitting on her bed. She mirrored his smirk.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, you clean yourself up while I'm gone, Frost," she said before heading for the bathroom. When she returned she found him sprawled out on her bed, having discarded the condom and done as she asked.  
  
She closed the bedroom door, careful to lock it before walking back to the bed, her steps still careful before settling down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He slid his arms around her, pulling her closer.  
  
"I think that went well, all things considered," Jack finally said, combing his fingers through her hair again.  
  
"It was fun," she agreed, lightly tracing his chest with his fingertips. "Do you suppose I'm on the naughty list now?"  
  
"No doubt. Did I live up to your dream version of me?" he teased.  
  
"Oh certainly," Rowan said, rolling her eyes a bit as he brought up her dream again. This had been much better than the dream, no question. After all, the dream had cut off before anything actually  _happened_. "And then some. In the dream you didn't have any ice powers."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I didn't accidentally give you frostbite or something, did I?"  
  
"No apologies," she said, meeting his eyes again.  
  
"Well, I know you liked it, you made  _that_  pretty clear, I just don't want to give my girlfriend hypothermia," he said with a laugh, though clearly still concerned.  
  
"I'm fine," she assured him, lightly kissing his cheek. "In fact, I'm starting to wonder if I have a kink…"  
  
"Ice kink, hm? I can work with that," he smiled.  
  
"Please do," Rowan said, smirking slightly. "Then maybe later you'll figure out bra hooks."  
  
"I got it off you, didn't I?" he said, wincing slightly. She laughed, leaning over to kiss him properly again, lips moving gently, both of them growing more exhausted by the minute.  
  
When she pulled away, she grabbed for the blankets of the bed, pulling them over each of them before she rested her head against him again. The blanket was, of course, more for her benefit than for his, but it was nice all the same.  
  
"I'm glad we did this," she whispered. She hadn't felt this content in weeks. For now, while she lie in his arms, so pleased with what they had done, there were no Muses or Shadow People. No questionable sun gods or peculiar situations.  
  
"I am too," he agreed, tightening his grip on her. "Excellent start to the new year, I think."  
  
She laughed. "Oh, definitely. Happy New Year, Jack."  
  
"Happy New Year, Rowan."  
  
She continued tracing shapes into his chest with her fingertips until slowly, she drifted off to sleep, considering all the strange things that had happened that evening and the wonderful way it had ended.  
  
Happy New Year, indeed.


	45. Parents

_"Have I ever told you how much I love the Muses?"_

_"Actually you’ve told me how much you loathe them with great regularity."_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Five: Parents**

* * *

  
  
"My  _head_ ," Calliope groaned, rubbing her temples as Clio set a teacup that was far too fancy for its own good in front of her. Clio's workshop was a headache in its own right, with piles of books everywhere you turned, tools thrown about every which way, a half finished…  _something_  on the table next to the tea set and previously finished inventions hanging from walls and sitting on shelves.  
  
"You  _did_  drink an awful lot," Polyhymnia said gently, adding honey to her own cup.  
  
"I haven't been that  _drunk_  since… since—" Calliope started.  
  
"Since the  _last_ New Year's Eve Ball," Erato snickered.  
  
"Hush," Calliope said, putting the teacup to her lips. "I don't even remember much of last night, honestly."  
  
"Do you remember telling off Apollo? Because  _that_  happened," Erato said.  
  
 _"What?"_  Calliope said, eyes wide.  
  
"Well, according to Thalia, you confronted him about coming down for a party but not to help us with the Shadow People," Clio said, taking a seat and stirring a few sugars into her tea. This was a ritual of sorts, a tradition, that the four oldest Muses would come together for tea at the New Year and break it to their eldest sister what exactly it was she had done the night before.  
  
It wasn't that Clio had never invited the younger five. Melpomene always refused; Thalia sometimes came but had declined this year's invitation before disappearing with their spider-like friend again. Urania always preferred a day of solitude after large events like this. And Terpsichore and Euterpe, well, they were sleeping everything off still.  
  
"Oh no," Calliope said. "Urania is going to show up any minute, I'm sure with an angry message from him."  
  
"He seems to understand that you were intoxicated and upset," Polyhymnia said. "Although, he knows that you  _meant_  what you said."  
  
"I don't even remember Apollo  _being_  there," Calliope groaned. "And, yes, I did mean it. I want him to help us more but… I would have  _never_  said that to him sober!"  
  
"He knows that, and honestly, he  _should_  be doing more. I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate that during the day we don't have to worry, but we're basically his livelihood," Erato said with a shrug.  
  
"The same could be said for Tsar Lunar," Clio pointed out. "They're both just… more observers, advisors."  
  
"They have both helped us a great deal, we must remember that," Polyhymnia said. "Apollo, especially. He has healed us, he has given us life, he has given us great purpose. I have not always agreed with his actions, Sisters, you know this, but he is family and I do believe he has our best interests at heart."  
  
"None of us are denying that, it's just the whole Shadow Person situation is a bit of a  _problem_. I don't know  _what_  we'd be doing if Calliope and Sanderson hadn't made that alliance ages ago," Clio said, shaking her head at the thought.  
  
"The Guardians are bailing us out so much with this," Calliope sighed. "Honestly, when this all blows over we're going to have to do something nice for them… even Jack Frost has been more helpful than I thought he would. Don't tell him I said that."  
  
"I only wish there was a way to take care of the Shadow People without resorting to such violence. But, as it is, that does not seem to be the case," Polyhymnia sighed.  
  
"I just hope it works. Even with the Guardians we're out-numbered. At least now with Cupid we've got one more long-range weapon," Clio shrugged.  
  
"What do you mean?" Erato said, having been about to take another sip of her tea, but instead suddenly set the cup back down on its saucer, her eyes wide.  
  
"Nicholas agreed to letting Cupid fight last night. I thought for sure he'd have spoken to you about it," Clio said, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.  
  
"Oh, I sort of remember that," Calliope said, brow furrowed.  
  
 _"What?!"_  Erato said, standing upright in such haste that she nearly knocked over her chair. The woman had never looked more frightening before, teeth clenched and eyes narrowed. "He certainly did  _not."_  
  
"Really, though, Erato, we could  _use_ —" Clio started, her tone gentle and her eyes focused on her teapot.  
  
"We will  _not_  be using my  _son_  for any strategic advantage!" Erato snapped, stepping away from the table and heading for the door. "I'll make sure of it!"  
  
"What are you going to do?" Polyhymnia asked, slowly rising from her own seat.  
  
"I'm talking to North, I'm shutting this down now, before it can go any further," Erato said, stepping outside and slamming the door behind her, leaving Calliope to cry out at the noise, clutching her head. Clio and Polyhymnia simply winced.  
  
"Well, she took it much better than I expected her to," Clio nodded, setting her teacup to her lips again.  
  
"Oh, yes," Polyhymnia agreed, taking a seat again, as it was clear that nothing she could do would stop Erato in her pursuit. "Did you all see the lovely dress Arachne made for Toothiana?"

* * *

  
  
Jack winced, shifting in his sleep and cracking his eyes open. He groaned softly, immediately closing his eyes again. He raised a hand to block the sunlight before daring to open them again. The curtain was open just enough to allow the sunlight to fall _directly_  into his face, leaving the boy scowling.  
  
Was the sun  _brighter_  today? Was this some kind of commentary from Apollo after Jack was less-than-polite to him? Some kind of subtle disapproval over what had occurred last night between Jack and the Mortal Muse?  
  
Or perhaps it was simply sunlight reflecting off all the snow outside, which technically made this discomfort and inconvenience Jack's fault. He sighed at the thought, eying the cord that would close the curtains. Could he reach it from here?  
  
More importantly, could he reach it from here  _without_  waking up Rowan?  
  
He glanced from the girl, to the window and back before shifting ever so slightly, extending his arm toward the cord. A few tugs and the sun was hidden behind the curtains and he could stand to open his eyes fully again. He rubbed at them only for a moment.  
  
Rowan didn't seem to notice his movements at all, still sleeping soundly. He reached forward, barely having a chance to tuck the stray strands of her hair out of her eyes before she swatted at his hand, never once opening an eye. He smiled softly, watching her closely.  
  
She had a beauty mark near the inner corner of her right eye, and another just below her right cheekbone. Her face was oval-shaped and her freckles were faint. Her nose was pointed, her lips were smooth. Her eyebrows were the same warm brown as her natural hair color.  
  
He lightly ran his fingers along her jaw, along every angle until she swatted at his hand again.  
  
There was a scar on her right thumb.  
  
 _Rowan Jean Sawyer,_  he thought over and over as he scanned these features, committing them to memory. He spelled her name to himself, eyes scanning down her throat. She was still wearing the necklace he'd given her, the chain had left slight indentions in her skin.  
  
 _R-o-w-a-n._  
  
Her shoulders were knobby, her skin fair but still darker than his, with pink undertones.  
  
 _J-e-a-n._  
  
Jagged collar bone. Long eyelashes, flecks of mascara that hadn't washed off. He didn't want to forget a single thing.  
  
 _S-a-w-y-e-r._  
  
She opened her eyes, sighing deeply. Big, round, brown eyes.  
  
"Morning, Frost," she mumbled, her lips barely parting as they formed a smile.  
  
"Morning, Sawyer," he said.  
  
"It  _is_  still morning, right?" she asked, turning to glance back at her alarm clock. Her hair shifted, showing her ear. There were five piercings. She turned her attention back to him. "Yeah, it's still early."  
  
"Good, so we've still got a few hours  _alone,"_  Jack said, leaning over and brushing his lips against hers. He pulled back only a moment, only an inch or so away before she pulled him back, kissing him with more enthusiasm.  
  
"Do you have to go, you know, spread winter around?" she asked when she broke away.  
  
"I  _should_ ," he sighed, rolling from his side and to his back. Rowan shifted, moved slowly until she was leaning over him, setting her mouth to the side of his neck. He smiled, entirely all right with his position beneath the girl, craning his neck. "But, uh, what's the rush?"  
  
"Is anyone going to notice if it snows a few hours later than usual?" Rowan mumbled, her fingertips brushing ever so gently against his skin, her breath warm against his throat.  
  
"It shouldn't cause too much of a fuss, it's not as though everything's going to—going to melt or something if I hang out here for a bit," he said, tracing the tattoo on her side with his hand.  
  
 _She must not become a distraction_.  
  
But didn't he  _deserve_  a distraction? After all this time alone, after everything else? It was such a  _fun_  distraction, and more of an excuse to try and commit her to memory entirely. The way she smelled, the way goose bumps rushed across her skin whenever she touched him, the way her eyelashes felt brushing against his cheek.  
  
She was becoming the best distraction he could hope for.  
  
"It shouldn't matter as long as you're continuing to be productive here, right?" she said. Rowan was the responsible one; she was the one that brought up his work with the weather in the first place. He couldn't help but smile at her attempts to justify him ditching his work to stay in bed with her longer.  
  
The best distraction. Besides, didn't  _everyone_  take January first off?  
  
"Of course. And what's more productive than, uh…" Jack trailed off, groaning as she bit at his ear again.  
  
"Round two?" she offered shyly as a proper ending to his statement. A repeat of the previous night, without all the party bullshit? Skipping straight to part of the evening that had been nerve-wracking in the best way and actually  _fun_?  
  
Yeah, Jack could get behind that.  
  
"Round two, hm?" he said, sliding his arms around her waist. Once he had a firm grip on the girl, he swiftly rolled her to her back, leaning over her with a smirk. She rolled her eyes at the sudden change in position but smiled, nonetheless. "And maybe round three… round four."  
  
"You're getting ambitious, Frost, don't forget how  _old_  you are," Rowan teased.  
  
"Are you really going to make digs at me for my age? Because  _you're_  the one that went to bed with me, being this old," he reminded her, gently brushing his fingertips along her collarbone, leaving faint frost patterns and goose bumps as he went. "Besides, your stamina would run out long before mine."  
  
"Is that so?" she said through a shiver. "That sounds like a  _challenge_  to me."  
  
"Maybe it is," he smirked.  
  
"Well, it seems to me there's only one way to settle a challenge like that," Rowan said in a sing-song voice.  
  
"This is going to be fun," Jack said before his lips crashed back into hers, her fingertips sliding down his chest.  
  
Best distraction ever.

* * *

  
  
Guests had been slowly but surely leaving the North Pole all morning, waking with hangovers after passing out in various rooms and corners. They each bid North a farewell before taking a snow globe or some other means to depart. There was one guest, however, that had only left long enough to change into his usual attire, and was now standing near North's worktable, where the man was seated as per usual.  
  
He presented North with an arrowhead mold. "Think we can use this or should I make a new one?" Cupid asked. North took the mold from the boy's hands, turning it over and examining it closely.  
  
"I think this should work nicely," North nodded. "What do you plan on doing about the shaft and the fletchings?"  
  
"I figured I'd make them the same way I make the others," Cupid said, pulling a golden arrow from the quiver attached to his belt for North to examine. "As long as the arrowheads are stardust, they should work fine."  
  
"These  _seem_  sturdy enough," North said, running his hands along the arrow before suddenly grasping it and slamming it down against the edge of the table, causing Cupid to jump in surprise.  
  
"What are you—?" Cupid started. North took the arrow in both hands and watched it bend under his strength as he tried to snap it. He brought the arrow down over the top of his knee and it simply sprang from his grasp and across the room.  
  
"Look out!" Cupid said as the arrow ricocheted back their way. North and Cupid each dodged to the side and the arrow finally came to a halt as it became lodged in the door. Cupid sighed, walking to the door, grasping the arrow and tugging until it came loose. "What was  _that_  about?"  
  
"Yes, they are  _very_  sturdy, very good," North said with a satisfied nod. "Should not have to reinforce the rest of the arrow with stardust."  
  
"This is one of my  _desire_  arrows, that could have ended  _terribly_."  
  
"But it did not," North said with a smile as he pulled open the door to his workshop. "Get your mold, we will see how much stardust it takes to make  _one_  arrowhead."  
  
Cupid tucked the arrow back into the quiver before taking his mold from the tabletop and following North out of the room. They had barely made it a few paces when:  
  
 _"Eros Cupid!"_  
  
His mother rarely used his first name. Cupid winced; North frowned. The pair turned to find Erato storming their way, her heels clicking angrily as she went. Her eyes darted between the two men and down to the arrowhead mold in Cupid's hands.  
  
"I had hoped it wasn't true!" she said, snatching the mold from Cupid's grasp. "How dare you directly disobey me? I told you that I did  _not want you involved!"_  
  
"I'm not four hundred years old anymore, Mother!" Cupid said, unable to hide the frustration in his tone. "You can't tell me what to do!"  
  
"You're still my son and I won't have you made a target!" Erato said. She turned her attention to North. "And you! You're a father, how  _could you?_ How could you support this? How could you agree to put  _my son_  in this situation? How—?"  
  
"Nothing is going to happen to your son if I have anything to say about it," North said. "But not accepting his help is foolish, Erato."  
  
"Letting him fight could be a death sentence," Erato said, her rage faltering briefly as she straightened her stance. "They're leaving him alone now. He's not a target, I want it to stay that way."  
  
"I can't just lie low and let this happen," Cupid said, taking his mold back from Erato's grasp.  
  
"Why not?" she said.  
  
"I won't be able to live with myself if they wipe you guys out and I didn't do anything," Cupid said slowly, as though he were explaining something incredibly complicated.  
  
"I won't be able to live with  _myself_  if you get yourself killed fighting  _my_  battle!" Erato practically snarled.  
  
"Erato! I will not let your son  _die_ , we will look out for him as though he is one of our own," North said.  
  
"One of your own? Would you let  _your_  son do this?" she demanded.  
  
"If I had to choose between willingly allowing my son to fight by my side rather than run off and do something stupid by himself, yes. I would," North said. "Because if you think forbidding him from fighting will  _keep him_  from fighting, Erato, you are kidding yourself. At least this way, we may look after each other."  
  
"Why is the assumption that I would do something  _stupid?"_  Cupid sighed.  
  
"Excuse me, I have to talk to my son," Erato said, teeth clenched as she took Cupid by the arm and dragged him away from North, to a quiet corner where they would hopefully not be disturbed.  
  
"Mother—" Cupid started.  
  
"Listen to me," she said. "I don't know that you understand how terrified I am." Cupid opened his mouth to speak, Erato simply glared and shook her head. He closed his mouth and sighed. "You're my son. Okay? You're the most precious thing in the world to me, Eros."  
  
"I love you, too, Mom, that's—"  
  
"No, listen. This is probably selfish, but you're all I've got left of your father," Erato said. "You're all I've got left to connect me to the life I had before all this, besides my memories. I thought I'd lost everything until Artemis told me I was still pregnant. And then you were born and—"  
  
"And you freaked out because I had wings, I've heard the story," Cupid said, avoiding making eye contact with Erato now. He wasn't usually so bad at looking his mother in the face, but his father was so rarely brought up.  
  
"No, but after that. The first time you smiled and I found out you had dimples like he did. I never thought I'd see him smile again, but I do every time you do," she said. Her rage had finally faltered and fallen into sadness, sentiment. Cupid shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do. "And I know, I've been with a lot of people and I don't talk about your father a lot. Our relationship was a mess, nothing about it was going to work, that's why I wound up the way I did, you know  _that_  story too. But I will always love him, and I promised myself that I wouldn't let any harm come to our son."  
  
"You're not going to let him down or something by letting me fight," Cupid said.  
  
"That's probably the hardest part. Your father was a  _warrior_. A grand, skilled warrior, and I think of that and… and I suppose it's not surprising at all, is it? That you want to fight. If he were here, he'd be fighting  _with_  you and so proud of the marksman you are," Erato said.  
  
"Why does that make it hard? Stop trying to forbid me from fighting, then," Cupid frowned.  
  
"Because I still want to keep you safe. You're still my son and I worry that despite your skill, despite the fact that everyone keeps insisting to me that you'll be just fine, I worry that the worst is going to happen. Your father, the grand, undefeated warrior was murdered so easily by someone we underestimated," Erato said. "I don't want the same thing to happen to you. We don't know what they're capable of. I don't believe for a minute that Pitch knows  _or_  told us everything. I would rather you not be on their radar at all."  
  
"And I would rather  _you_  not be on their radar at all but that's not going to happen," Cupid said, setting a hand to Erato's shoulder. "Mom, North's right, if you don't let me fight with the Guardians I'm going to find a way to do it on my own. Please stop fighting it, I think after seventeen centuries I can stand to protect  _you_  for a change."  
  
 _"I'm_  the parent," Erato said. "I'm supposed to protect  _you._  I can't even protect myself in this situation."  
  
"But I can," Cupid insisted.  
  
Erato pulled the boy into her arms, burying her face into his shoulder. As he returned her embrace, he frowned, knowing this was in part because she didn't want him to see her cry. He knew all her tricks.  
  
"Don't make me regret this," she said.  
  
"You're letting me fight?" he asked, surprised.  
  
"I am. But don't make me regret it," she said again, her grip on him tightening.  
  
"I won't," he said. "I promise."

* * *

  
  
Melpomene turned to her side, eyes fixed on a broken mirror in Pitch's lair. She tried to see the back of her corset as well as she could, pulling at the laces. She had done this many times on her own, but it was always easier if she had another one of the Muses to assist.  
  
But she didn't really want to talk to any of them right now. It was inevitable that the next time she spoke to them, her breakdown at the ball was going to come up. She was not feeling up to being interrogated or comforted right now.  
  
"May I?" Melpomene glanced up at the mirror in time to see Pitch's reflection appear.  
  
"Know your way around a corset?" Melpomene asked, cocking a brow.  
  
"Have I not proven that before?" Pitch chuckled, reaching forward and pulling at the laces. Melpomene gasped and cast an annoyed glance back Pitch's way. "Too tight? My apologies. Good think you've already died before."  
  
"I'd rather not experience asphyxiation a second time, thanks. You seem to be in good spirits," she said as he adjusted the laces. "Over your daughter dismissing you already?"  
  
"Have I ever told you how much I love the Muses?" Pitch said, ignoring Melpomene's comment about Mother Nature entirely.  
  
"Actually you've told me how much you loathe them with great regularity."  
  
"Perhaps I should clarify," Pitch said, "I love how much  _stronger_  the emotions of a Muse radiate."  
  
"Is it the Mortal Muse, again?"  
  
"Not this time. Dear Erato has seen better days."  
  
"Erato? I don't think I've ever seen  _her_  afraid," Melpomene said, brow furrowed.  
  
"She's a parent," Pitch said, giving the laces another firm tug. "Cupid is desperate to prove himself. He's pushed her over the edge from worry and into fear. Honestly, your 'nephew' could end up doing me a great deal of good."  
  
"And after Erato pushed so hard to make sure he wasn't involved," Melpomene commented. "Ironic."  
  
"Terrifying," Pitch smiled, gently tying the laces.

* * *

  
  
"So, how was your New Years Eve, Angel Face?" Rowan's father asked, sitting with her mother on the sofa. Rowan, over on the arm chair glanced up, trying not to pay any mind to Jack, who had been hovering over her shoulder to see what she'd been drawing for the past half hour.  
  
"Oh, I went to the North Pole," Rowan said nonchalantly. "Met Santa Claus, the Headless Horseman, Apollo, Cupid…"  
  
Dot shot Bill a puzzled look; he simply smiled. "So, you spent the night writing more stories?"  
  
"Yes," Rowan said, glancing back at her sketchbook.  
  
"About the Headless Horseman, Apollo, and Cupid?" Dot asked.  
  
"And Santa Claus, dear," Bill added.  
  
"Actually, he goes by 'North,' nowadays," Rowan said with a short nod.  
  
 _"Right,"_  Dot said, brow furrowed. "How do Greek Gods fit in with 'North' and the Headless Horseman?"  
  
"Actually, I think 'Cupid' is Roman, 'Eros' is the Greek version," Bill said.  
  
"What about Apollo?"  
  
"He's Apollo either way, I think."  
  
"They all know each other," Rowan said. "And Jack Frost, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman... The Muses."  
  
Bill and Dot exchanged glances again.  
  
"Sounds like it's going to be a very interesting story, Roo," Dot said with an encouraging smile, though she still seemed quite confused.  
  
"You should add the Moth Man into your story. I like the Moth Man," Bill said.  
  
"The Moth Man is such an  _asshole_ ," Jack sighed. Rowan tried to hide her smile.  
  
"I'll think about it," she said.  
  
"Or, uh, the Boogeyman," Bill said, wiggling his fingers about as though to be spooky. Rowan tried not to look surprised when her father mentioned the name. Jack, however, visibly winced.  
  
Well, visibly to  _Rowan,_  anyway. Obviously, none of this conversation was getting her parents to believe anything.  
  
"He's in there," she simply said. "How was Boston?"  
  
"Oh, it was the same as every other year," Dot shrugged.  
  
"The vodka was better this year," Bill said. He paused, seeming to realize what he'd said before adding, "Not that your mother and I got drunk or anything."  
  
"Of course not," Rowan said with a roll of the eye. She and her father had about the same alcohol tolerance, but she wasn't about to tell him that. As far as her parents knew, Rowan had not ever had  _any_  alcoholic  _anything_  ever.  
  
"Sharon texted me," Dot said, clearly hoping to change the subject. "Said that early this morning, all of a sudden there was this terrible blizzard that only lasted for a minute or so, and then just, calmed right down. Then it happened a few more times this morning before we got back into town. Said it was the strangest thing."  
  
"Oh?" Rowan said, hoping her parents didn't notice as her cheeks turned red, thinking of the snowstorm in question.  
  
"Did you happen to see that?"  
  
"I must have been in bed," Rowan said vaguely. Jack snickered.  
  
"Yes, well she did say the first one was close to three in the morning, I thought you might have been sleeping," Dot nodded.  
  
"She said she was in bed, no one said  _anything_  about sleeping," said Jack. Rowan tilted her head, allowing her hair to fall into her face and block her mad blushing from her parents' view. She scribbled  _SHUT UP_  on the corner of her sketchbook page so that Jack could see. He simply laughed.  
  
"You all right, Angel Face?" Bill asked.  
  
"I'm great, actually," Rowan said, offering her father a sincere smile.  
  
"'Great,' hm?" Dot asked. "You seemed to be really happy when we got home…"  
  
"You're welcome," Jack said, straightening his collar.  
  
"I've just got a good feeling about this year," Rowan said. "So far, so good."  
  
"Yeah? Well, good. I'm glad," Dot said.

* * *

  
  
Erato shook her head as a yeti offered her a cup of tea. She was seated near the fire and watching the globe turn slowly. She clasped her hands together, trying to will them to stop shaking.  
  
"Erato?" North said, passing the yetis and approaching her. He pulled over another seat and sat down next to her. "I apologize for going behind your back. I would be furious if a friend did that to me with my children."  
  
"Thank you," Erato said, eyes still on the globe rather than him. "I'm sorry, too."  
  
"What for?" North asked.  
  
"I'm going on and on about possibly losing my son, my son that I've had for centuries and centuries when you lost all your children in a mortal lifetime," Erato frowned. North reached for her shaking hands, taking them in his.  
  
"No parent wants to outlive their children," North said as she finally turned back to face him. "Regardless of the timeframe. No need to apologize."  
  
Erato nodded, her mind still racing with every worst-case scenario that she could possibly imagine. She took a deep breath, hoping to keep from crying again. There was too much to deal with, she couldn't keep breaking down like this. "Where  _is_ Cupid?"  
  
"He is helping the yetis with the arrowheads; the boy will not let them work with his mold without him," North smiled. "Thought I would sneak off and check on you."  
  
"That's very sweet but I don't need you to—" Erato stopped short. It meant a great deal to her that someone was sitting with her right now, another person that understood her worry over her child. "That's a lie."  
  
"Perhaps I just sit here for a while longer?" North offered. "We do not need to discuss anything further."  
  
"I'd like that," Erato nodded, taking note that her hands had stopped shaking as she glanced back at the globe.

* * *

  
  
Rowan closed the back of her jeep after setting her bags inside. It was a good few days into the new year now, and  _most_ colleges weren't starting up again for another week or so, but Rowan was due in class again next week. Rowan was usually mildly annoyed at this fact, but found herself conflicted about it now. She would certainly not mind postponing her return to class, and she knew she'd miss her parents as soon as she got back to her apartment and it became clear she wouldn't see them again for another few months.  
  
But on the other hand, all the lying, all the excuses, all the worry that her parents would become a target just by virtue of being in close proximity to her was becoming exhausting. Being away would mean less opportunity for questions to arise and hopefully more time for her and Jack to figure out a better plan of action when it came to explaining their relationship to those that couldn't see him. Or, at the very least a more solid story.  
  
"I wish you didn't have to leave yet, Roo," Dot said, pulling Rowan into yet  _another_  hug. "It never gets any easier."  
  
"I know, but I have class," Rowan said, hugging her mother back.  
  
"Don't bang up your car any more, check your oil, don't forget to eat," Bill said, pulling Rowan into his arms as soon as Dot let go of her.  
  
"Yes, Dad," Rowan said, rolling her eyes. Jack smirked as he carefully opened the passenger side door now that her parents were more focused on her than the vehicle.  
  
"Did you remember your taser?" Bill asked.  
  
"Yes, I have my taser," Rowan sighed.  
  
"Hopefully you'll never have to use it but it's better to be prepared," Bill nodded. Rowan simply smiled, eyes darting back to Jack for only a moment before refocusing on her parents.  
  
"Text me when you get back to your apartment so I know you got there safe," Dot said.  
  
"I will," Rowan said.  
  
"Sounds like the roads are better today than they've been, just be careful," said Bill.  
  
 _"I will,"_  Rowan nodded. It was the same reminders, the same fussing every time she went somewhere further than the grocery store, ever since she got her driver's license in the first place.  
  
"And try to get us a picture of your boyfriend. Obviously not while you're driving, but I want to see the real thing," Dot said. Jack hadn't quite closed the passenger door yet, stopping to listen and now to frown at Dot's request.  
  
"I know, but my sketch is gonna have to hold you over for a bit, technology's actively working against him," Rowan said. It wasn't a complete lie, but was it believable at all?  
  
"Lucky for him, you're an excellent artist," said Dot, pushing Rowan's hair out of her face. The woman sighed. "Oh, don't go back to school. Stay here, take online classes."  
  
"Then I'd have to break my lease," Rowan smiled.  
  
"That's expensive," Bill said.  
  
"I'm gonna miss you," Dot said, pulling her daughter into her arms again. "So, so much."  
  
"I'm gonna miss you, too, Mom," Rowan said.  
  
"Come on, it isn't forever," Bill said, though this didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around both his wife and daughter. When Rowan finally got out of their grasp, she walked to the car and closed the passenger door as casually as she could, as though it had always been open and there definitely wasn't a boy sitting in her car currently.  
  
"Love you, Rowan," Dot said as Rowan set a hand to the handle of the driver's side door.  
  
"Love you, Angel Face, go kick ass," Bill added.  
  
"Love you guys, too," Rowan said.  
  
"Text me when you get there!" Dot reminded her again.  
  
"I will!" Rowan said, sliding into the car, already on so that it had a chance to warm up. She fiddled with her music for no more than a few seconds before fastening her seatbelt and putting her car in reverse. She pulled out of the driveway, returning her parents' waves before starting out of the neighborhood at last.  
  
In the rearview mirror she could see her parents standing in the driveway, still, watching her until her car was out of sight.  
  
"This is really weird," Rowan commented once she turned the corner.  
  
"What is?" Jack asked.  
  
"Just, how much has changed since we  _got_  here, when the holiday break started," she said. "So much  _happened_."  
  
"It's only been about three weeks, hasn't it?" Jack mumbled, going over the dates in his head. It had been a long time since he had any real reason to keep track of the exact date.  
  
"The new moon was three weeks ago, exactly," Rowan said.  
  
"Happy Anniversary, then?" Jack said, his tone giving away that he felt silly saying it. Rowan laughed.  
  
"I can't believe it's only been three weeks since we got together, how easy am I?" she said, still laughing slightly.  
  
"If there's any word I  _wouldn't_  use to describe this relationship, I think it would be 'easy,'" Jack said. "Besides, I don't know about you, but it feels like a lot longer than that to me."  
  
"Definitely, every now and again I remember that I  _haven't_  known you for years," Rowan said, thankful that she had to check her blind spot and focus elsewhere now in order to merge onto the interstate. She was blushing madly at this statement and hoped he didn't notice.  
  
"I'm glad I'm not the only one turning into a sap," Jack said.  
  
"Just promise we'll make fun of each other mercilessly if we start writing sonnets for each other or something," Rowan cringed.  
  
"Of course," Jack said, as though it were obvious.  
  
"Good," she smiled. It meant a lot to her that she and Jack could actually joke around with each other. She wasn't sure she'd ever even had a  _friend_  that she had this much fun with.  
  
Jack swore suddenly. "What?" Rowan asked.  
  
"If the last new moon was three weeks ago that means the next one's already next week," Jack said. Rowan tightened her grip on the steering wheel at the thought.  
  
"Right," she mumbled.  
  
"You don't have any more plans you can't get out of, do you?"  
  
"No, the only thing I can think of that would come up is work study but I can get out of that pretty easily."  
  
"Good, then I'll come by early that night and everything should work out fine, the only reason things went bad last time was because we were outside Sandy's barrier," Jack said.  
  
"And we're sure they won't find some way around it?"  
  
"It's stardust, so they shouldn't."  
  
Rowan nodded, hoping very much that this was true.  
  
"What are you doing  _tomorrow_  night?" Jack asked suddenly, changing the subject.  
  
"What do you mean?" Rowan said, confused. Every night for a while now, with the exception of the ball, had been essentially the same. Stay inside, spend time with Jack, don't get killed by Shadow People. It was a simple enough plan.  
  
"I mean, what are you doing tomorrow night?" he repeated.  
  
"Hanging out in my apartment and hopefully not getting my soul devoured?" Rowan said, still confused as to why he was asking.  
  
"Do you want to, you know, do something?" he asked.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked again.  
  
"I mean, it's been three weeks and I haven't taken you out," Jack said sheepishly.  
  
"Aw, you took me to the ball," Rowan pointed out, though she couldn't help but smile at the fact that Jack was actually asking her out. It was a small gesture at this point but she was pleased all the same.  
  
"Yeah, but that was a mess, it wasn't any fun until we left," he said.  
  
"It had its moments," she said. "What would we do, though?"  
  
It wasn't as though they could do the typical dinner and a movie. Well, not without Rowan earning her fair share of judgmental glances for sitting across from an empty chair at a restaurant.  
  
"It's a surprise," he said.  
  
"You have no idea, do you?"  
  
"Hush."  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes. "Should we really go out at night?"  
  
"We've still got a half moon, I'll figure something out," he said. "Is that a yes?"  
  
"That's a yes," she said.


	46. Into The Light

_"I wasn’t_ aiming _for you, you’ve got to stop showing up out of nowhere!”_

_"Well, excuse me, but usually when I drop by the pole there’s not a juvenile with a projectile weapons!"_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Six: Into The Light**

* * *

  
  
Rowan could feel his eyes on her as she straightened the covers on her bed. She took a seat on the bed, grabbing her coffee mug, adorned with her school's logo, and took a drink. She glanced up, over the edge of the mug and across her apartment, where he was doing the same, his smile clear through his eyes alone.  
  
"Don't make me kick you out," she sighed after removing her cup from her lips. "Don't make me be the bad guy."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack shrugged, setting his mug down on the counter. His lips pulled into that smirk that she couldn't quite decide if she loved or hated.  
  
"Yeah, that's why you're flashing me the puppy dog eyes and why you haven't put your jacket back on," Rowan said, cocking a brow and pulling over his discarded jacket from the other side of the bed.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jack said, walking around the counter in order to be better seen. Rowan rolled her eyes. "Is this distracting for you?"  
  
"Jack," Rowan practically whined, throwing his jacket at his head. "It's not that I haven't enjoyed your company, but the arrangement is that you hang out here  _at night_  and do your winter thing during the day."  
  
"It's still early," Jack said, pulling his hoodie from his face where it had so unceremoniously landed. He still didn't put it on, clearly amused that Rowan's eyes kept wandering down from his face.  
  
"I don't want to be the reason either of us gets in trouble; this has been going on a few days now," Rowan said. It was true, ever since the New Year started, Jack had been staying later and later into the morning, and the previous day he'd stayed with her the  _entire_  drive back from Massachusetts. She appreciated him keeping her company, and to say that she liked having him around was an understatement.  
  
But that didn't change the fact that he was  _supposed_  to be out there being Jack Frost.  
  
 _"So_  responsible," Jack said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he walked closer.  
  
"I  _haven't_  been," Rowan pointed out. She couldn't seem to help herself. It certainly hadn't taken a lot of convincing in the last few days to get her to agree that a few more minutes (which always turned into a few more  _hours)_  couldn't possibly do any harm. "We're going to have all night together. We've got our  _date_ , remember?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I suppose I should go and give you an opportunity to  _miss_  me a little before I came back," Jack sighed. Rowan rolled her eyes, but stood upright and leaned in to kiss him softly anyway. Her fingertips lightly ran down his chest, the contours more than familiar to her now.  
  
"Now, go, get out of my apartment," she breathed as she pulled away from his lips with a smile. She took a step away. "Can't miss you if you don't leave."  
  
"I actually just had an idea," Jack said, pulling his jacket on at last and snatching his staff from its place against the wall. He suddenly seemed thoughtful, determined.  
  
"Oh?" Rowan asked, unsure how to feel about this. "Was it because I kissed you?"  
  
"I think so," Jack nodded, walking toward her window. "I'll see if I can pull it off before I come back tonight, if it'll even work…"  
  
"Does, uh, does this happen a lot?" Rowan asked, brow furrowed as she followed him.  
  
"Does what happen a lot?" Jack asked, turning to face her again.  
  
"Me…  _inspiring_  you," she said. She hadn't spent a lot of time considering the effect her powers had on him or on anyone else. She hadn't spent a lot of time considering her powers in general, honestly, far more distracted by the fact that dark creatures sought to devour her soul in order to obtain them.  
  
It hit her again that she had  _no control_  over these abilities. There hadn't ever been any hint that there was any way she could _learn_  to control them. Well, not without becoming a full Muse first.  
  
She didn't like to think about becoming a full Muse and the fact that she couldn't control this aspect of herself was incredibly frustrating.  
  
"It's happened a handful of times," Jack said with a shrug. He was casual; was he downplaying it purposely? Hoping she wouldn't overreact? "Before we first kissed, I heard you thinking, 'if you're going to kiss me, just kiss me already.'"  
  
"You  _heard_  that?" Rowan winced. Jack nodded. What  _else_  had he heard her think about him?  
  
It hit her suddenly that it probably didn't matter. What could he have heard that was so embarrassing that he  _didn't already know?_  That she thought he was attractive? He knew this and taunted her about it. That she liked when he took his shirt off? He knew this and taunted her about it. That she wanted to have sex with him?  
  
He knew this, taunted her about it, and gladly took part.  
  
"It was part of why I was so frustrated that you kept pushing me away afterward," he said. There was the smirk again. "Lot of good  _that_  did you."  
  
"I was  _trying_  to be responsible," she sighed.  
  
"That's no fun," he smiled, kissing her briefly again. "But, as Little-Miss-Nice-List has pointed out, I should be going."  
  
"Yes, you should," she smiled. "I'll miss you. My life is  _so_  empty without you, I will be counting down the moments, waiting by my window with bated breath for your return."  
  
"No, you won't," he grinned.  
  
"Yeah, you're right. I have plans to work on my story today," she said. "But I  _will_  miss you."  
  
"I'll miss you, too. I'll see you tonight, Sawyer," Jack said, sliding open her window and climbing through.  
  
"See you, Frost," she said as the wind picked up and he left her windowsill. She watched him go for a moment, spinning through the air with his own brand of grace. When he became harder to see, she closed the window and sat back down atop her bed. She took her notebook from the bedside table.  
  
Clicking the pen, she flipped to the first blank page and began scribbling. Ideas, notes, shorthand, arrows, question marks, underlines and circles. She hastily crossed out things that didn't work. Quick, hatching marks.  
  
She wasn't sure when the hatching became shorter strokes, abrupt sketches. Circles and lines, gestures of a slim boy. Weightless, caught in the air. The tip of her pen slid gracefully across the page.  
  
The words "fly me away," soon joined her sketches.  
  
When she ran out of room on the page, she turned to the next. Pen met paper once more.  
  
A moment later, grabbing for her mug and taking a sip, she found herself rolling her eyes. She stared at the page, twirling her pen about in her left hand for a moment.  
  
Jack's name, in far too elaborate script, accompanied by a heart. "How old  _am_  I?" she mumbled, finding herself scribbling this inquiry in the next available lines.  
  
" _Do I know anything?"_  she added below this question, leaning back and repositioning her notebook on her lap. She took another drink of coffee before the mug was gently set back on the bedside table.  
  
Her eyes darted from the page to the gently falling snow hitting her windowpane.  
  
" _What is the difference between love and infatuation?"_  she whispered as she wrote.  _Love._  She underlined the word. On the next lines she sketched a grid, guides, to draw the word carefully, elegantly.  
  
She pursed her lips and drew a question mark beside the word.  
  
 _Love?_  
  
 _I've been wrong about this before._  
  
 _Have I learned from past mistakes or am I repeating them?_  
  
She glanced out the window again. He hadn't been gone long, and she'd see him again soon. Yet all Rowan could feel when she eyed the window and he wasn't there was loneliness.  
  
She could call Shirley. She could text Nicolette. They could meet for coffee, catch up on gossip.  
  
But somehow she knew that the loneliness she felt couldn't be fixed by outings with friends and sugary drinks. It could only be fixed by a certain immortal boy.  
  
Whenever he was gone, she missed him. Going about her day without him was entirely possible. But it was growing less and less preferable. Rowan took note of this in the book.  
  
 _Love,_  she wrote again. Less ornamentation this time. But again, she couldn't help but add the question mark.  
  
 _Love?_  
  
There was a part of her that immediately responded with a "yes." But it was always at that point that she began to think and to worry.  
  
She  _had_  been wrong about this before. It was only after being hurt so thoroughly by Luke did she realize that she hadn't ever loved  _him_  but rather the idea of being in love.  
  
Whenever she considered her high school fling, she couldn't help but wonder if Luke still believed that he had ever loved her as much as he had said he did.  
  
And Danny? Well, she had  _told_  him she loved him, but only after making sure he had said it first. Danny was a safe option, a boy with a future and goals. He was the logical choice, and she had hoped that she would  _learn_  to love him. But she never did.  
  
His lack of respect for her chosen field hadn't helped matters. It was clear now that neither of them had the respect for each other that they should have. Rowan was certain that, looking back, Danny had probably concluded that he never loved her either.  
  
How could she be so sure about the concept, then, when it came to Jack? Doubts plagued her mind, similar to the ones she had when first considering her romantic feelings for him in the first place.  
  
 _Magic, excitement, adrenaline,_  she wrote in her notebook before underlining the words twice. Before she and Jack had gotten together, she feared her feelings for him were simply a result of the situation. She was certain now that she truly did care about Jack.  
  
 _But does that = Love?_  
  
Rowan tapped her pen against the notebook page, glancing at the snow outside again. She hated thinking back on her old boyfriends, but felt it necessary now to figure out if she could trust her instincts or not.  
  
 _If Jack were here,_  she wrote,  _he would say I'm over-thinking it._  
  
She paused only a moment before adding,  _But he wouldn't be surprised. I worry. I over-think. It's just the way I am._  
  
Rowan stopped again and re-read that last sentence to herself, over and over.  _It's just the way I am._  She underlined it, circled it.  
  
 _Who am I?_  If that wasn't a loaded question, Rowan wasn't sure what was. She was only twenty years old, after all, and certainly most people in her age range weren't quite sure how to answer that.  
  
 _Mortal Muse?_  
  
Rowan crossed the title out almost immediately after writing it. She eyed her previously written question and wrote it again. _Who am I?_  
  
With Luke, she'd been a lost puppy. She'd said anything and done anything he'd asked of her because she wanted him to like her even half as much as she liked him. She cringed at the thought of the amount of his homework she completed for him, the amount of artwork she'd done for no compensation. She knew he was more interested in her work when it had something to do with his band, so she drew more of that.  
  
There had been a point after they had broken up when Rowan realized that she hadn't worked on a story for the entirety of their relationship. When she began writing them again, it was like reuniting with an old friend.  
  
With Danny, she liked to think she'd grown more of a spine. Her stories weren't going anywhere, and she no longer wished to limit her drawings. But she still found herself biting her tongue when he would regard films she enjoyed as childish, or refer to her telling stories to Jamie and his friends as "humoring the children." The whole point of dating someone like him, a logical match, was to avoid drama and conflict. And so Rowan rarely brought up any issues she had about him regarding her artwork as a "hobby" or never taking her aspirations to be a storyteller seriously.  
  
She sought to avoid conflict so much that she couldn't even bring herself to break up with the boy to his face.  
  
The Rowan Sawyer that had been in those relationships was not the Rowan Sawyer she wanted to be.  
  
 _Who do I want to be, then?_  
  
Rowan wasn't sure. She knew what she  _didn't_  want to be. She didn't want to be an extension of someone else. She had at one point been so thrilled to be "Luke's girlfriend" that she hadn't even considered that it eliminated everything else significant about her.  
  
She didn't want to be a trophy girlfriend who never caused any trouble. She didn't want to force herself to save face at the expense of the things she cared about, at the expense of her feelings. She knew she still went out of her way to avoid conflict at times, but she liked to think she stood up for herself more now.  
  
Rowan didn't want to be afraid, certainly not of something like this. And yet, here she was, scribbling in her notebook because she was afraid that her feelings might actually be something else. She needed clarity, because she was afraid.  
  
It occurred to her that she was never the first to say, "I love you." It was safer to wait for the other party to make the first move. She needed their approval first, then she could dare utter the word.  
  
She glanced down, suddenly realizing she had been nervously fiddling with her necklace. She eyed the snowflake charm and smiled, softly.  
  
Rowan had never felt like simply an extension of Jack. She remembered the ball, when she'd first met Cupid. Jack hadn't introduced her as his girlfriend or the Mortal Muse. He'd introduced her simply as "Rowan."  
  
Avoiding conflict was difficult, if not impossible with Jack. From the moment they met, there was tension. Their relationship had started only after a fight over whether or not they should be together at all.  
  
But she'd never actually discussed her feelings and fears with someone as she did with him. They'd had some terribly difficult discussions and if anything it had brought them closer.  
  
When she was with him, she felt content with herself. Seeing him smile made  _her_  smile.  
  
"Maybe I  _am_  making things too hard," she said, sketching a heart on the page.  
  
 _Love?_  she wrote, and hastily crossed out the question mark.

* * *

  
  
It was always dark this far north this time of year, but if you knew where to look, you'd find the brightly illuminated windows of North's factory. The lights had always been something of a comfort before, but recent events had made them even more so.  
  
What was  _not_  a comfort, however, was almost being impaled. Jack had barely cleared the opening in the ceiling of the factory when he found himself dodging out of the way of  _something_  speeding his way. The object in question rushed out of the opening and into the dark nothing Jack had just vacated.  
  
Glancing down to the platform near the globe, he found Cupid lowering his bow, which was far too ornate for its own good. Well, that sorted out what had almost hit him, at least. North stood nearby, watching Jack and shaking his head.  
  
"What's the deal?" Jack called before touching down on the platform with the others. "The last thing I need is to be shot with one of your boner arrows,  _Junior."_  
  
"Yeah, yeah, so you got laid without my interference. Congrats, it only took you about two and a half centuries," Cupid retorted, eyes narrowed. Jack straightened his stance and tried to play it off as though he wasn't thrown off by Cupid outright _announcing_  this. His and Erato's powers were so  _annoying._  "I wasn't  _aiming_  for you, you've got to stop showing up out of nowhere!"  
  
"Well, excuse me, but usually when I drop by the pole there's not a juvenile with a projectile weapons!"  
  
"I am  _fourteen centuries older than—"_  
  
"Great shot, Cupid!" came Tooth's voice. Jack turned to find her flying back inside, holding a shield in her grasp. The shield had a target painted on the surface, and an arrow wedged straight through the bull's eye. "Hello, Jack."  
  
"Where were you?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow. Had it been  _that_  dark that he hadn't noticed her out there?  
  
"Oh, I was a good fifty feet above the opening," Tooth said, gesturing upward. "Giving Cupid some practice with harder-to-see targets."  
  
"Hard-to-see targets?" Jack repeated with a smirk, kicking off the ground and heading back toward the opening in the ceiling. The surrounding area was coated with snow, as usual. "Well, the Shadow People move pretty  _quickly_ , too, would hate for the kid to be ill-prepared for that."  
  
"Will you  _cut it out_  with the—" Cupid started.  
  
"Do you have any suggestions, Jack?" North asked.  
  
The next instant, a snowball hit Cupid squarely in the face. "Gonna have to think faster than that," Jack laughed, sitting at the edge of the opening now.  
  
Cupid wiped slush from his face, teeth clenched. He pulled another arrow from his quiver, nocking it before drawing it back, aiming for Jack's chest. Jack's laughter echoed throughout the pole in response.  
  
"Cupid," North said, disapprovingly.  
  
"It's just one lead arrow," Cupid said. "All that'll happen is he rejects the first person he sees, which will probably be me, so what's the harm?"  
  
"We're supposed to be on the same side," Tooth said, gently setting a hand to Cupid's arm, urging him to lower his weapon. Cupid groaned and did so, setting the arrow back in the quiver.  
  
Another snowball to the side of his head.  
  
"Jack!  _Same team,"_  North called as Jack slowly made his way back down.  
  
"I'm trying to help," Jack said with an "innocent" smile.  
  
"Well, I think you've both proven your aim," Tooth said, shaking her head. "I'd say that's enough of that for today."  
  
"Then we should get some sword training in for you, Tooth," North said. "It  _has_  been a while, and the Muses will be in your care for the new moon again next week."  
  
"Right," Tooth frowned, glancing back at Tsar Lunar XI's sword, set aside. "But, uh, Jack's here! Did you need something, Jack?"  
  
"Nothing really important if you've got training to start," Jack shrugged. Tooth caught his eye and frowned, jerking her head slightly in North's direction. Jack glanced from North and back to Tooth curiously. The fairy then subtly gestured to the door leading to North's workshop. "Well, actually, now that I think about it, I'd really like to have a word with you sooner rather than later, North."  
  
"Of course," North nodded, seemingly not noticing Tooth's gestures. He turned to lead the way to his workshop. Jack glanced back at Tooth, who simply mouthed "thank you," to the boy as he followed the older Guardian. Cupid's eyes darted, confused, from Tooth and back to Jack.  
  
"We will train after, Tooth!" North said as they went.  
  
Tooth didn't respond, but instead brought herself to a seated position atop the nearby railing, eying the sword still. Cupid took a few short steps over, leaning against the railing and following her gaze to the sword.  
  
"You really don't want to train, do you?" he said as soon as the door closed behind North and Jack.  
  
"I think you want to train enough for all of us," Tooth said vaguely.  
  
"That's not an answer," Cupid said, tracing the designs on his bow with his thumb.  
  
Tooth sighed. "No, I don't want to train. I know I should, I know I have to, but…"  
  
"Why'd you ever stop in the first place, anyway?" asked Cupid. "You were the best there was a few centuries back."  
  
"A lot of things were different a few centuries back," Tooth pointed out. "Things… got busy. I couldn't leave the palace as much. I focused on my work and hit my swords away."  
  
"That's it? You just didn't have time for it anymore?" Cupid said, clearly skeptical.  
  
"Like I said, a lot of things have changed," Tooth said, finally meeting his eyes.  
  
"Did something happen? I feel like the Muses would have mentioned something along the way, we all know they can't keep a secret," Cupid said. Tooth laughed slightly.  
  
"No, they can't," she said. "It wasn't anything specific, it was just, I came to like not needing them, I guess. It was just me, my fairies, and the teeth. It got to a point where they weren't necessary for me to do my work and protect the children. I used to feel like the swords were just an extension of myself."  
  
Tooth glanced back down to her hands, thinking back to a time when it was hard to decipher where her body ended and her weapons began. She sighed, before adding, "But I'm not sure that's true anymore."  
  
"Everyone else seems to think you'll do well," Cupid said.  
  
"But it's been  _so long,"_  Tooth said. "And everyone's counting on me to be able to do this for the new moon again  _and_  for the big plan we're working on for the full moon."  
  
"Then you  _really_  need to train," Cupid said gently.  
  
"I don't do well with failure," Tooth mumbled.  
  
"So, don't fail," he said, as though it was that simple.  
  
"What if I do?"  
  
"Is getting Jack Frost to help you postpone your training succeeding?" Cupid asked, pointing to the room that North and Jack had disappeared to. "You don't just  _lose_  the kind of skills you have, Toothiana. Let North help you."  
  
Tooth sighed, mulling over what the winged boy had said. She rose from the railing, flying cautiously to the sword and lifting it up again. "I know you're right," she said, "It's just…"  
  
"Starting something is the hardest part, sometimes," Cupid said. All Tooth could do was nod.

* * *

  
  
"What is on your mind, Jack?" North asked. "I imagine, judging by Cupid's comment, that you are not having issues with Rowan."  
  
The fact that North was acknowledging Cupid's earlier jab at Jack's sex life left the boy blushing. "We're uh, we're doing very well," he said vaguely.  
  
Very,  _very_  well.  
  
Good, good, I trust you are both behaving, being  _responsible,"_  North said, raising a brow.  
  
"'Being responsible?' You're not going to give me a sex talk, are you?" Jack said, making a face. "Because, no offense, I know you've got all the best intentions, but that is a conversation I never want to have with  _Santa Claus."_  
  
North laughed. "I trust you do not need me to tell you anything."  
  
"No, I'm good," Jack assured as he glanced around the workshop. "Actually, I was going to ask if you had a functioning camera? And, if so, can I borrow it?"  
  
"I might," North said, beginning to sort through the nearby drawers.  
  
"And, Thalia is with Arachne right now, helping her with the whole stardust weaving thing, right?" Jack added.  
  
"I assume so. Why do you need the camera and Thalia?" North asked, finally pulling a Polaroid camera from the drawer and brushing dust away from its surface.  
  
"I think I figured out a way to make Rowan's life a little easier," Jack said as North held the camera to his face, taking a snapshot of one of his ice sculptures. The camera flashed, and out the front came the picture, still developing.  
  
"Good, still works, be careful with it," North said, handing Jack the device. "It is nice to see you so happy with her, Jack, but I do hope you are not forgetting your other responsibilities."  
  
"I… might have cut a few corners the past few days with the whole 'spreading winter' thing," Jack admitted. Was there much to admit to, though? He was certain North already knew, which was why the man was bringing it up.  
  
"Jack, you must keep the children believing or you will not be able to help anyone," North reminded him.  
  
"I know, I know," Jack said. "It was just for a few days, and I was pretty thorough on my way up here."  
  
"Good," North nodded. "I do not want to lecture you."  
  
"Good, I don't want to be lectured," Jack said, glancing toward the door. He wasn't sure how long Tooth wanted him to keep North busy for, and certainly hoped it was for a better reason than being alone with Cupid of all people. "Especially not for spending more time with Rowan. I've only had this discussion with you  _and_  Bunny multiple times."  
  
"As I said, it is nice to see you so happy, Jack," North said. "Just stay focused."  
  
"It's nice to  _be_  this happy," Jack said. "It'll be fine."  
  
"I trust you, Jack. Is there anything else?" North asked.  
  
"How're all the weapons going?" he asked. "Has the plan changed any? Still ambush at the full moon in Burgess?"  
  
"The weapons are coming along very well, Clio actually left shortly before you arrived. She is going to rest and will return to work more later," North said proudly. "As far as I know, the plan has not changed, but I believe Calliope wants to have another meeting after new moon next week to iron out all the details."  
  
"Right, like how are we supposed to get  _all of them_  there?" Jack said, echoing one of Cupid's questions he'd asked at the ball. "They never send all of them after Rowan."  
  
"Is something we will discuss at the meeting, I am sure," North said. Jack simply nodded, toying with the camera now until it flashed in his face and produced another picture. He winced, blinking as a spot began to dance in his vision. "Do you know how to use that?"  
  
"I've seen plenty of people do it," Jack said, setting the camera down. "I'll figure it out."  
  
"If you say so."

* * *

  
  
"The ships are all on fire, how did they get back to their island after this? Carpool the dragons?" Rowan mumbled to herself, her computer situated on her lap and her notebook discarded to her side.  
  
After hours of obsessing over Jack in her notebook, Rowan's mind had finally begun to slow down and stop plaguing her with doubts. While she felt better after writing everything out, she was certainly ready to focus on something else, anything else.  
  
And so, here she found herself curled up with her laptop and one of her DVDs, focusing on someone else's story for a change.  
  
A knock on the window drew her eyes from the screen and left her heart racing in the best way possible.  
  
When had she become such a sap? Writing pages worth of thoughts on the boy and going weak at the knees when he arrived? She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she paused her movie and set her computer aside.  
  
As she approached the window and fiddled with the lock, she began to wonder if perhaps she should just start leaving it unlocked and remove the "knock first" rule she'd put in place when they had first met. So much had changed since then.  
  
"Smile!" Jack said, holding up the camera after Rowan opened the window. She cocked a brow at the object but smiled all the same as it flashed. Removing the photo that came out of the camera, Jack landed gracefully on the floor.  
  
"Where'd you get that?" Rowan asked.  
  
"North Pole," Jack said matter-of-factly.  
  
"Shouldn't you have gotten a lump of coal instead, Naughty List?" she teased, sticking out her tongue as he raised the camera to take another picture of her.  
  
"Been there, done that, this is just on loan," he said. "I told you I had an idea when I left, didn't I?"  
  
"I thought it had to do with our date," Rowan said, eying the camera quizzically now as he removed the latest picture it produced. "Does this involve naughty pictures?"  
  
"It  _can_  if you're into that," Jack said, glancing down at the camera as though seeing it in a whole new light. He clearly had not considered this yet.  
  
Rowan rolled her eyes. "Is that a no?" he asked.  
  
"I'll think about it. What was your grand idea?" Rowan asked.  
  
Jack reached into his pocket with his free hand, producing a handful of photos and handing them to her. Handling them carefully, for fear of getting fingerprints on them, Rowan glanced down to find the first picture in the stack to be of Jack. Well, sort of Jack. He had brown hair and brown eyes in this photo, his hoodie noticeably missing the frost.  
  
"You look nice with dark hair," she commented before glancing back up at him. "But I don't understand."  
  
"Thalia and Melpomene deal with the theater a lot, I mean, they're Comedy and Tragedy," Jack said, only causing Rowan to grow more confused. What did they have to do with anything? She glanced back at the stack of photos in her hand, tucking the one she'd already examined to the back to look at the next one. "They've each got a weird, magic mask. Their masks let them quickly change their location  _and_  their appearance. I guess they call them 'scene changes' and 'costume changes.' So, these are pictures of Thalia, disguised as a humanized version of me."  
  
"Huh," Rowan said, examining the next picture a bit more closely. "She  _almost_  got your smirk right."  
  
"Well, you know, it's hard to duplicate this level of charm," Jack said, straightening his stance and taking on the very smirk she was referring to. "But here's the thing: The Muses can choose to reveal themselves to Mortals or not."  
  
Rowan's eyes lit up, and she glanced from the photos and back to Jack. "So people who don't believe can see her in these pictures?"  
  
"They should," Jack said with a nod.  
  
She glanced back down at the photos, unable to help her smile. "I can't believe you found a loophole! Oh, thank you, Jack, this is really going to help me out with everyone else," she said, hastily pulling the boy into her arms.  
  
"Less of a loophole and more a scheme, but you're welcome," he said, returning her embrace. "I felt bad that you couldn't even fulfill that simple request."  
  
"But it's not your fault, you didn't have to worry yourself with how to fix it."  
  
"Yeah, well…"  
  
Rowan let go of Jack before approaching her table, spreading the pictures out on the surface before taking her cell phone out of her pocket. "Did it take a lot to get Thalia to do it?"  
  
"Nah, she took it as an opportunity to mock me. Arachne thought it was hysterical. Personally, I think her impression of me needs work," Jack shrugged. Rowan carefully took a snapshot of one of the pictures with her phone. "And I'll probably never live down the fact that I had to ask the Muses for help with something."  
  
"That must have hurt your pride," Rowan winced.  
  
"Little bit," he admitted. "But I'll recover."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure. Let's see," Rowan said, fiddling with her phone. "Sent."  
  
No more than five seconds later did her phone indicate that she had received a new text message.  
  
"Feedback already?" Jack asked.  
  
"Shirley says 'Yum,' and that's it," Rowan said with a roll of the eye. The phone beeped again. "Oh, wait, she's elaborating. She says, 'Lucky bitch, he's even cuter than your drawings.'"  
  
"Shirley has good taste," Jack nodded.  
  
"Oh, there's my mom," Rowan said as her phone beeped again. "She says, 'He's very cute, just like your drawing! Glad we finally get to see him. Did you eat dinner yet?' Oh, Mom…"  
  
"How often do you forget meals that this is such a concern for them?" Jack asked, laughing slightly.  
  
"I'm not the only one, okay? My dad will get caught up in a project and forget to eat all day too," Rowan sighed. The amount she took after her father was staggering. "And for the record, I  _have_  eaten today."  
  
"Coffee doesn't count."  
  
"I have eaten besides coffee!"  
  
"Good. Now, once the barrier goes up, we'll head out," Jack said, glancing out the window, where the sun was still setting. The dream sand barrier should be appearing at any moment.  
  
"Where are we going, exactly?" Rowan said, pocketing her phone after sending her mother another message.  
  
"It's a surprise," Jack taunted, raising the camera again as annoyance crossed her features.  
  
"Oh, come on, tell me," she said, taking the camera from his grasp.  
  
"Nah, it's more fun for me this way."  
  
"I hate when you get all secretive and ominous, it never ends well," she said, standing next to him and holding the camera out in front of them. He leaned in closer, setting his head beside hers, smiling as the camera flashed.  
  
"I promise there's not gonna be any shadow people or anything this time," Jack said.  
  
Rowan took the photo from the camera. "How can you be so sure?"  
  
"Because where we're going, they don't like to be," Jack said. "Besides, I've got backup."  
  
"What backup?" she asked.  
  
Jack glanced out the window, the dream sand barrier now twisting around the building. Walking over, he leaned outside and touched the dream sand, interrupting its stream and causing some of it to break away.  
  
Rowan approached the window in time to see the some of the dream sand take shape, twirling until it became a grand, golden, humpback whale, much smaller than the one that had assisted them during the last new moon. The whale floated happily through the air, as though showing off.  
  
"He's coming along," Jack said. "Talked to Sandy on my way back."  
  
"You really thought this through, didn't you?" she said, watching the dream sand whale before turning back to glance his way. She wasn't sure that anyone had ever put so much thought into something like this for her. Between the photos and assuring that they'd get through their date without incident.  
  
"A little," he smiled. "Get your coat."  
  
"Don't tell me what to do, Frost," she smirked before walking to the hook where she kept her coat and pulling it on. Gloves, boots, and her scarf soon followed.  
  
"Ready to go?" Jack asked as she walked back over.  
  
"I guess, I still get a bit nervous with the whole flying thing," she said.  
  
"We'll be fine," he said, turning around so that she could grab on to his shoulders. She was pleased that this time she could wrap her arms around him and pull herself in close without debating what exactly it meant when it came to her feelings for him. The prospect of flying was still there to make her heart rush, but at least it wasn't Jack making her nervous this time.  
  
"Hang on!" Jack said before they were shooting out the window and high into the air, the window slamming shut behind them. The dream sand whale followed nearby, swimming with great speed to keep up with Jack.  
  
"Okay but really," Rowan called over the wind, tightening her grip on the boy as they went higher and higher. She tried to stay focused on him rather than the distance between them and the ground. "Where are we going?"  
  
The wind shifted, they were headed north. "How about this," he said, "Close your eyes, I'll let you know when we get there."  
  
Rowan sighed. "Fine," she said, shutting her eyes and leaning her head against him as they went. "This isn't an invitation to do any of those stupid twirls."  
  
"You never let me have any fun," he laughed.  
  
"Oh I let you have  _plenty_ ," she sneered. There was part of this that was nice. Clinging to him so closely, closing her eyes and letting him take her wherever it was he was taking her.  
  
The amount she had come to trust him was ridiculous.  
  
They were flying steadily for a short while before Jack asked, "Eyes still closed?"  
  
"Yes," she said.  
  
"All right, keep them closed, just another minute."  
  
Where on earth could he be taking her? Were they still headed north? She considered that perhaps he was bringing her back to the pole but that didn't seem right. Somewhere in Europe again, perhaps?  
  
Where does an invisible immortal take his visible mortal girlfriend on a date?  
  
She'd read her fair share of paranormal young adult romances and she couldn't really come up with a decent theory.  
  
While her eyes were still closed, she could tell that wherever they were now was lit. This only served to puzzle her further. She did remember Jack saying that where they were going, the Shadow People didn't like to be. Had he simply taken her somewhere it was still daylight? It didn't seem quite  _that_  bright.  
  
"Okay, we're landing, keep 'em closed," Jack said as they slowed down and moved to an upright position. All she wanted to do was take a peek but she forced her eyes to remain closed. Her curiosity would be indulged soon enough.  
  
Her feet touched ground, and once she was sure she was steady, she released her tight grip on Jack. It felt like she was standing in snow, so at least there was that clue.  
  
Jack took her hand in his and said, "All right, now."  
  
She opened her eyes and immediately found herself tilting her head in order to properly look up at the sky. She gasped at the sight: ribbons of light stretched across the sky in the grandest display imaginable. They were the most vibrant colors that Rowan had ever seen, blues, greens and reds blending together magnificently, illuminating their surroundings.  
  
"The Northern Lights," she whispered, barely noticing the dream sand whale swimming closely behind where they stood. "It's beautiful."  
  
"I used to find a spot and just sit and watch this all the time," Jack said, smiling as he glanced from the sky to her awed expression.  
  
"You had mentioned that North uses them as a signal for the other Guardians, are these his?" she asked, eyes still fixed on the sky.  
  
"No, these are the real deal, no magical interference," Jack said.  
  
They were in the middle of nowhere, a snowy area surrounded by some scattered trees and completely silent. She released his hand in order to slide her arms around his torso instead. "This is really nice, Jack. I never thought I'd really get to see this, just pictures."  
  
"Glad you like it," he smiled, returning her embrace.  
  
She'd gone back to focusing on the sky again when he gently pried himself away from her grasp. She watched him step away and toward the dream sand creature for only a moment before glancing back at the sky.  
  
Rowan barely had a chance to wonder why he had walked off before a snowball hit the side of her face. The familiar feeling of magic, joy, washed over her and she laughed.  
  
"Do you even  _have_  an attention span?" she said, brushing snow away from her face as she glanced his way. She quickly ducked to avoid the next one he threw. She kneeled down to form her own snowball quickly in order to retaliate.  
  
"Staring at some lights is only fun for so long," Jack called back before the snowball she threw hit him in the arm.  
  
"You're ridiculous!" she said, taking another snowball to the chest as she prepared to throw another.  
  
 _"You're_  ridiculous!" he replied, conjuring a rather large snowball before rushing forward to get in closer range to throw it at her. She rushed away in response, the dream sand whale following them lazily.  
  
When she felt the large mass of snow finally collide with her back, she smirked for only a short moment before making a show of falling forward into the snow before her and lying absolutely still.  
  
"Rowan," Jack said, kneeling beside her and setting a concerned hand to her shoulder. "You okay?"  
  
Rolling over quickly, Rowan took a fistful of snow and threw it in the boy's face, laughing slightly as she went. Jack sputtered for only a moment, brushing snow from his eyes before leaning over her with a smirk.  
  
"You're ridiculous," he said again.  
  
 _"You're_  ridiculous," she repeated as well, grinning as he leaned in closer to kiss her, heart racing the whole way. When he pulled away, he laid down next to her in the snow, glancing back up at the lights in the sky.  
  
Rowan, too, watched the lights before her eyes wandered back to the boy beside her, the lights dancing across his blue eyes.  
  
Her heart ached just looking at him. It was all so… well, ridiculous.  
  
She leaned over him, propping herself up on her elbows as he had earlier. She toyed with strands of his hair and he smiled softly, gently running his fingers down her spine.  
  
Rowan bit her lip. They were alone, save for the whale that was keeping a safe distance. The lights provided such a wonderful atmosphere. This moment was as good as any to open her mouth and just say it.  
  
But she'd never been the first to say this before.  
  
"Jack," she said, her voice sounding smaller than expected. She cleared her throat.  
  
"Yeah?" he said, reaching to tuck a bit of her bangs out of the way.  
  
"Jack," she said again, as though he'd forget she was talking to him. She took a deep breath, heart racing. "I love you."  
  
His eyebrows shot up in surprise and her heart only increased in speed. She began to wonder if she shouldn't have said it, if it was maybe too soon.  
  
The entire time she'd been scribbling away in her notebook, trying to figure things out, realizing the obvious fact that she was _in love_ with Jack Frost…  
  
She hadn't quite considered what she was supposed to do if perhaps he wasn't in love with her.  
  
His lips pulled into a smile. Not a devilish smirk, but a sincere smile.  
  
"I love  _you,"_  he said, leaning up enough to properly kiss her again. She couldn't help her own smile through the kiss, arms trembling as her moment of panic turned into excitement.  
  
This was it. They were in love.  
  
Everything that was never supposed to happen between them had happened.


	47. Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, for the last two chapters I've had issues because I end up re-writing entire sections. BUT! I think I've gotten past that and I've sorted my shit out, so here's hoping next time I really do upload a little faster. This ends on a bit of a sappy note but I'll make up for it next chapter, I think. I'm also bringing in some characters I've been working on for a while that I'm super fond of in this chapter. Hope you guys enjoy Teddy and my dear Captain Phantom and her crew.

_"Why are you giving me that ‘you’re totally lying’ look?"_

_"Obviously they’ve caught on that no one as good looking as me can exist."_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Seven: Excuses**

* * *

  
  
The bell above the coffee shop door rang as Rowan and Shirley quickly shuffled inside, hoping to let in as little snow as possible. Wiping their boots on the front mat, the girls tugged at their gloves.  
  
"This place is  _dead,"_  Shirley said, glancing around. There was only one other customer, situated in the far corner. He was decked out in flannel, wearing thick rimmed glasses and large, unnecessarily expensive headphones. He was completely focused on whatever was on his computer screen.  
  
"Yeah, well, half the city is shut down thanks to the weather," the boy at the register with the choppy hair and rock n' roll dye job groaned.  
  
"Sure they're not just avoiding you, Teddy?" Shirley said, leading the way to the register.  
  
"You wanna go, Houben?" the boy replied, spreading his arms as though to look intimidating.  
  
"You think I can't take you?" Shirley said, mirroring the gesture.  
  
"Let's take this outside!" said Teddy, going to pull himself atop the counter as though he were going to leap over it to begin fighting the girl.  
  
"Why do you guys have to do this every time?" Rowan smiled, rolling her eyes. This coffee shop was the closest one to campus, and while campus had its  _own_  coffee shop, Teddy didn't work there.  
  
And he was so fun to harass.  
  
"Habit," Teddy said, setting himself back behind the register where he was supposed to be. "What are you guys doing out, anyway? Shouldn't you be taking advantage of the snow day?"  
  
"What is this 'snow day' you speak of?" Shirley said in mock-bewilderment.  
  
"They didn't cancel?" Teddy said, wide-eyed.  _"The entire county cancelled._  It didn't do me any good, of course, I don't have Monday classes this semester and the goddamn coffee shop is still open but are you  _kidding me_ , Pyle didn't cancel?"  
  
"Pyle School for the Arts is a private institution," Shirley sighed.  
  
"And because it's private, it's a private decision as to whether or not classes will be cancelled," Rowan said with a roll of the eye. "They  _never_  cancel. The doors to the buildings were frozen shut and they didn't cancel."  
  
"The snow tried its damndest to get us an extra day of vacation, but alas, alas," Shirley frowned. Rowan couldn't help but smile, slightly. If only Shirley knew how true that was. She'd woken up at her alarm to find Jack sitting at her windowsill and causing what he was certain would be inclement enough weather to grant her the day off.  
  
It had worked for seemingly every other school but hers. Jack had been appalled and yet, somehow delighted at the challenge the stubborn administration was providing. Rowan had appreciated the gesture, really, but insisted she had to go to school (which earned her another "Little-Miss-Nice-List" jab).  
  
Aside from the whole notion of going to school as expected being the responsible thing to do, trudging across that snow-covered campus gave her a sense of normalcy. Classes and school weren't going to slow down because she had magic nonsense to deal with. She still had a degree to earn, and she planned to earn it on schedule.  
  
Besides, harsh weather and strict administrators aside: Rowan's spirits had been pretty high for the past few days. She'd found herself humming and smiling to herself more and more.  
  
She was in love. She'd spent the past hour sketching his face in her notebook.  
  
"At least it's slowing down, now," Shirley said, tugging off her coat as she glanced out the window.  
  
"And at least we got out of art history early since half the class didn't show up anyway," Rowan added. It was the whole reason they had ventured to the coffee shop; the girls still had a good two hours until their next class started. "Teddy, I'll have my usual—"  
  
"Aw, man, you guys are gonna actually make me work?" Teddy groaned, punching her order into the register.  
  
"I know, I know, how  _dare_  I make you do the thing they're  _paying_  you to do," Rowan said in mock sympathy, handing him her debit card.  
  
"You're killin' me," Teddy pouted, handing her back the card and her receipt. He glanced back to Shirley, "Usual for you, too?"  
  
"Yeah, I think so," Shirley said. Rowan stepped away to allow the other girl to pay, walking to the nearby armchair and pulling off her peacoat. The bell above the door rang again and a short, flustered looking girl with red and black hair entered.  
  
"Hi, Nicolette," Rowan said. She hadn't seen the girl since the art show. It hit her all over again, how much had happened since then. It had only been a few weeks, hadn't it?  
  
"Hey Rowan, hey Shirley," the girl replied, walking to the counter and dropping a short stack of flyers on the surface, bringing snow with her.  
  
"I'm calling it quits for the day, it's too cold," she said to Teddy. "No one's out anyway."  
  
"Looks like you got rid of a bunch," Teddy said, barely glancing away from the machinery to look back to the fliers.  
  
"A good portion  _may_  have blown out of my hands and gotten carried off by the wind," Nicolette said vaguely.  
  
" _Nic,"_  Teddy groaned.  
  
"I slipped on the ice, it was a whole thing! I didn't fall, though." Nicolette seemed proud of this fact.  
  
"Slipping on ice, losing our gig flyers, why do we even keep you around?" Teddy teased.  
  
"Because I'm classically trained in opera, why do we keep  _you_  around?" Nicolette said, cocking a brow.  
  
"Sex appeal," Teddy responded immediately. "And I guess because Quinn can't play two guitars at once."  
  
"You know he would if he could. Let's not mention this to him, he might make that his next project," Nicolette winced. She took two flyers from the stack and turned her attention back to Shirley and Rowan. "Hey, you two should come to our show this Saturday! It's only five dollars to get in."  
  
Shirley and Rowan each took a flyer from the girl. Rowan scanned over the information, fiddling with her necklace in thought. As most shows tended to go, this wouldn't be starting until well after dark. The new moon, however, was Friday, not Saturday.  
  
Rowan frowned, coming down from her "I'm in love with someone" high for the first time in a while, realizing she'd still have to discuss it with Jack. Would it be too soon after the new moon to venture out? She missed being able to make plans to see a show or spend time with her friends without worrying about the phase of the moon.  
  
"Hey, you guys are headlining, huh?" Shirley said, glancing up from her flyer.  
  
"Yeah, we're actually going to get to play a decent set for once," Teddy said, setting Rowan's order on the counter. She stood to retrieve it, wondering how she was going to explain her way out of this one.  
  
 _Sorry, guys, but I have to check with my mythological boyfriend to see if it will be safe for me to even go out that night. See, dark creatures are trying to devour my soul and I'm not really supposed to go out after dark._  
  
She didn't have to lie any less now that she was back at school, she just had different people to lie to.  
  
"Sounds like a good time, I'll go. I'm sure Adam will, too," Shirley said as Rowan sat back down in the armchair.  
  
"Excellent," Nicolette grinned. "Think you can make it, Rowan?"  
  
"I  _think_ so," Rowan nodded nervously. "I'll let you know if something changes."  
  
She held her breath, waiting for either of the other girls or Teddy to ask what else she could possibly have to do on Saturday night. It was only the first week of the semester, so her homework load probably wouldn't be too big, and her work study never ran that late. Shirley was the only one that knew about Jack, and as far as she was concerned, the relationship was long-distance, so there shouldn't be any boyfriend-related distractions.  
  
They didn't ask. Was it that easy?  
  
"Sounds good," Nicolette said, taking a seat at last. Rowan tried not to sigh in relief, instead gently blowing on her drink in an attempt to cool it. She supposed she wasn't dealing with her mother, so lying would be a  _little_  easier. Should that relax her as much as it did? "How'd Christmas go for you guys?"  
  
"Well, my family sucks so I spent it with Adam's," Shirley said. "That was interesting, being around people that, you know,  _like_ each other. His mother was fussing the whole time though, all concerned with feeding me as much as she could."  
  
"At least his mom still likes you, Quinn's mom got all weird around me the minute we started dating," Nicolette sighed.  
  
"She still  _adores_  me," Teddy said with a winning smile, setting down Shirley's drink for her to take.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, she'd adopt you if you weren't legally an adult," Nicolette said, waving away Teddy's comment. "At least his dad still likes me."  
  
"What do Jack's parents think of you, Ro?" Shirley asked, sitting down again after retrieving her drink.  
  
"Who's Jack?" Nicolette asked.  
  
"Her new  _boyfriend,"_  Shirley said in a sing-song voice.  
  
"Is he cute?" Teddy added.  
  
"He… doesn't have any parents," Rowan said, pulling out her phone and pulling up one of the pictures Jack had provided for her. She handed her phone to Nicolette.  
  
What  _would_  Jack's parents have thought of her? What would his sister have thought of her? She wondered if these were questions he had considered. She'd done her fair share of considering what her own parents would think of him.  
  
"You never mentioned that before," Shirley said.  
  
"Didn't come up," she shrugged. She was hoping to keep most discussions of Jack to a minimum, if only to avoid questions she couldn't answer. "But, yeah, they're dead. He's got a grandfather and a few close family friends, I haven't had much interaction with any of them, but they seem okay with me."  
  
"Okay, but is he cute?" Teddy repeated as though this were the most important question.  
  
"He's okay, I like my boys with more eyeliner and piercings, though," Nicolette said, getting up to hand Teddy the phone so he could see the picture.  
  
"A bit skinny but I'd give him an eight, maybe an eight-point-five," Teddy nodded. "I'd do him."  
  
"You'd do most attractive people with a pulse," Shirley said.  
  
"He's  _done_  most attractive people with a pulse. That's how our van got keyed," Nicolette said, handing Rowan back her phone.  
  
"I didn't know she was the revenge type!" Teddy said.  
  
"And the headlights?" said Nicolette.  
  
"Didn't know that  _he_  was the type to even know how a baseball bat worked…" Teddy mumbled. "But we're not talking about me. Rowan, good work, hopefully he's not as boring as the last one."  
  
" _Teddy_ ," Nicolette hissed.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Rowan smiled. "Jack's… definitely fun."  
  
"In bed?"  
  
" _Teddy, hush."_

* * *

  
  
The scraping of metal on metal was enough to make anyone cringe, and cringe Cupid and Erato did as they watched North and Tooth move swiftly around the large and mostly empty room on the lowest floor of the factory.  
  
It was easy to forget that North was an old man as he leapt, dodged and sprinted with ease to keep up with Tooth and her attacks. Tooth, however, was quickly rediscovering her own prowess with a sword and watching her move with it was a sight indeed.  
  
"It's almost like a dance, Cori would love to watch this," Erato said softly, cringing again as the blades met.  
  
"Shouldn't she and Aunt Euterpe be training at some point?" Cupid asked, just as softly. Talking any louder somehow seemed too loud, as though it would disturb the fighting Guardians.  
  
"Soon enough, I imagine. Arachne just finished making their gloves," Erato said. She winced as one of North's swords went sliding across the floor, coming to a halt a few feet away from them.  
  
"Ha-ha! Haven't disarmed me yet, Toothie!" North laughed, raising his remaining sword. Tooth moved quickly, but so did North.  
  
"How long have they been at it?" Erato asked.  
  
"Days. She leaves every so often to direct her fairies and he checks on the rest of the pole and how the weapons are coming, but it they always come back within a few hours," Cupid said.  
  
"Do  _you_  ever leave?" Erato asked, brow raised. "You have other responsibilities too, you know."  
  
"I think the world can make romantic decisions on its own for a few days," Cupid shrugged, turning to face her. Her eyes were fixed on Tooth and North.  
  
 _"Cupid."_  
  
 _"Mother."_  
  
"You've got to keep up with your work."  
  
"Don't worry about it, I'll head back out tonight."  
  
"Good—Duck!"  
  
Before Cupid had a chance to properly respond to his mother's warning, she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him downward as she kneeled. There was a loud  _crack!_  and Cupid glanced up to find a sword lodged into the wall.  
  
"That was at least a good few feet above our heads," Cupid said. "We weren't in any danger—"  
  
"Hush, you still didn't see it coming," Erato said as they stood upright again. North was laughing and clapping his hands.  
  
"You disarmed me! Good work, good work!" he said. Tooth couldn't help but grin, still catching her breath as she twirled the sword about in her hands for effect. North approached the wall and effortlessly pulled the sword from where it was lodged.  
  
"You didn't do so badly yourself, Nicky," Erato commented as Cupid took a few careful steps away from her and the old Guardian, approaching Tooth.  
  
"Look at you, not failing," he commented, careful to make sure his mother or North couldn't overhear.  
  
"Took long enough," she smiled. He wasn't sure if she was referring to the countless times North had beaten her in the past few days, or the long break she'd taken from sword fighting in general. Either way, he returned the smile.  
  
"Think you'll be able to handle the Shadow People if they show up for the new moon?" Cupid asked.  
  
"I think so," she nodded, glancing Erato's way but briefly. "It's the Muses that'll be the challenge, honestly." Cupid chuckled.  
  
"Yeah, I don't envy you there. I love them, but, uh, small doses sometimes, you know?"  
  
"Where will you be for the new moon?" Tooth asked, curiosity clear on her face.  
  
"I kind of want to test out my new arrows," he said softly. Erato would never approve of this, he was sure. "But I'm sure my mother will insist I join her and the other Muses at your palace."  
  
"We have to be careful not to reveal our entire hand yet," Tooth said. She had a point; if he went looking for the Shadow People to test the arrows, they'd, well,  _know he had the arrows_  and was ready to fight them. It would be one more thing for them to prepare for.  
  
But, on the other hand…  
  
"I gotta make sure these arrows are actually going to do the damage we need them to do. If they can get rid of the Shadow People during the new moon, when they're at their strongest, we'll be golden for the full moon," Cupid said. "Besides, I don't know that it'll be too surprising that one of the Muses has a son fighting for them."  
  
"Going after them by yourself isn't the best idea," Tooth frowned. She hated to think what would have happened when she and Jack had encountered the Shadow People for the first time if they hadn't had each other.  
  
"They can't fly; if I stay airborne I should be okay," Cupid said. "You know I'm gonna do this either way."  
  
Tooth sighed, glancing toward Erato and North again, distracted by their own conversation. "I can give you an out, send you on an 'errand' to check up on my fairies."  
  
"And then I can just so happen to run into some Shadow People on this errand," Cupid smiled, dimples flashing.  
  
"Try to find a  _small_  group," Tooth said. "And let  _them_  attack first."

* * *

  
  
Jack leaned over Rowan's shoulder, watching her computer screen. Lorelei Bennett straightened her glasses and adjusted her own screen.  
  
"Is it working? Can you hear me?" Lorelei said loudly. Rowan reached forward, adjusting the volume accordingly.  
  
"Yes, Aunt. Now, like I tell Mom, the whole point of a video call, much like a phone call, is that we can talk to people far away _without_  yelling," Rowan said.  
  
"Sorry," the woman said, smiling sheepishly. "Did you get the day off today? Jamie did."  
  
"Nope, never," Rowan said, shaking her head. Jack sighed dramatically.  
  
"I  _destroyed_  that campus, there was no reason that school should have been open," he mumbled. Rowan smiled, tight-lipped to keep from responding to Jack's comment.  
  
Did Rowan need a snow day? Not necessarily. Did they  _need_  an extra day to be saps together without school commitments getting in the way? Certainly not. But Jack had tried anyway.  
  
Any excuse to spend a little more time with her.  
  
"That's ridiculous," Lorelei said. "Some day one of their students is going to turn up dead thanks to the weather and they'll have to rethink their policies."  
  
"Yeah, well, until one of us takes one for the team we all have to suffer," Rowan shrugged.  
  
"Talk to your mom recently?" Lorelei asked.  
  
"Yesterday. You know, it was pretty much the same old, same old," said Rowan. Jack quietly pulled another of the dining room chairs over, careful not to get it in the frame before taking a seat.  
  
"She sent me a picture of your new  _boyfriend_ ," Lorelei said, brows raised. Jack straightened in the chair. "Asked if I'd ever seen him around since  _apparently_  you met him here."  
  
"Why are you giving me that 'you're totally lying' look?" Rowan frowned.  
  
"Obviously they've caught on that no one as good looking as me can exist," Jack said.  
  
"Why wouldn't you have mentioned him while you were visiting?" her aunt asked. "You didn't meet him online or something and decide to tell your parents that you met him here because it sounded better, did you?"  
  
"Damn, online would have been such a better cover story," Jack said. They could have claimed he lived in another country entirely and that there was no way he'd ever be able to meet her family. He didn't know how to feel about the fact that Lorelei had come up with a better cover immediately than they had.  
  
"I didn't mention anything to you because we had only barely met, it didn't seem significant enough to mention," Rowan said.  
  
"Significant enough to name a character in a story after him, though," Lorelei said.  
  
"I liked his aesthetic," Rowan said. "But there wasn't anything between us at the time. Like I said, it didn't seem important enough to mention."  
  
"Well, what's he like?" Lorelei asked.  
  
"He's a pain in the ass," Rowan shrugged. Jack went to shove her, but stopped short when he remembered that Lorelei was watching, lowering his hand again. "He's stubborn, sarcastic, argumentative and sometimes he acts like a huge kid. But he's also fun, he's got a good sense of humor and makes me smile and has these moments where he's  _so_  smart."  
  
"I like when you tell people about me," Jack smirked. She lifted her hand to shove him, as well, but lowered it again when she seemed to realize the same thing Jack had.  
  
"Well, I hope things work out with you two, you seem happy," Lorelei said with a sincere smile.  
  
"I really am," she said, glancing Jack's way.  
  
"Mom," came a voice off-screen. "Is it my turn yet?"  
  
"All right, someone wants to hear the next part of your story. I have to give Sophie a bath anyway," Lorelei said as Jamie appeared on the screen. "Have a good semester, Rowan, love you."  
  
"Love you too, Aunt," Rowan said. Lorelei got up from her seat, which Jamie quickly took, waving at the pair. Rowan and Jack returned the gesture, Jack adjusting his chair a bit more now that he didn't have to worry about Lorelei.  
  
"Hi Rowan, hi Jack," Jamie said.  
  
"Hey Jamie," Rowan said.  
  
"Enjoy the snow day, Kiddo?" Jack asked.  
  
"Yeah, it was great! We built a snowman that was even taller than Cupcake," Jamie said, all smiles.  
  
"Sorry I wasn't around for that, I got caught up in Colorado, the weather is  _so weird_  there," Jack sighed.  
  
"That's okay, we knew you were the one that gave us the snow day. But hey, Jack," Jamie said, seeming to suddenly realize something. "Didn't you say you had a job for the Guardians you had to do at night now?"  
  
Panic crossed Rowan and Jack's faces for a split second before Jack straightened his stance and attempted to act nonchalant. "I do!" he said. "But every now and again Sandy covers for me so I can have a night off. So, here I am, bothering your cousin, listening to stories."  
  
Jamie's eyes lit up, "Right, the story! What happens next, Rowan?"  
  
"Well, we left off with Jack, Anne, and Mr. Perry getting ready to steal a ship, right?" Rowan asked, pulling over her notebook and flipping through the pages. Jack tried not to smirk when, glancing over, he saw his name with a heart on one of the pages she had passed.  
  
"Right," Jamie nodded.  
  
"All right, well, Anne hadn't noticed the amount of blood on her person still from cutting off the officer's hand. It proved to frighten enough of the others on the dock that, in combination with a few threatening gestures from Jack, they managed to board one of the ships easily. It was getting it out to sea that was going to be a problem.  
  
"Anne immediately began giving orders to raise anchor and set the sails, which Mr. Perry gladly went off to start doing. Jack, however, stopped the man in his pursuit and led him back across the ship. Jack approached Anne at the wheel and immediately asked, 'who died and made you captain of this voyage?' You see, Jack had done his fair share of pirating in his time, but had never been a captain. He'd never even been a first mate. He'd always been the cabin boy, with the worst jobs the ship had to offer."  
  
"He wanted to be captain," Jamie said. Rowan nodded.  
  
"Anne just rolled her eyes, set her hands to her hips and said, 'I've been bossing the two of you around  _this_  long; I see no reason to stop.' To this, Mr. Perry could only shrug and state that she made a fair point before heading off to raise the anchor as he'd intended to earlier. Jack, however remained rooted in the spot.  
  
"'And just  _where_  do you intend to lead us, then,  _Captain?'_  he said. 'I suppose you know exactly where we're going to go in order to obtain a crew since the three of us can't manage this ship for long without others to help defend it.' Anne pursed her lips, clearly irritated by Jack's statements. She would never outright admit it, but Jack was right. She hadn't even considered the notion of finding others to join their crew, and she has no idea which island she should sail to first. They had been lucky to even get this far, and with Jack around, that luck was sure to run out sooner rather than later.  
  
"'You'll be first mate,' she said bitterly. Jack smiled at her displeasure. 'Your luck is reason enough not to trust you as Captain, but you have experience. Where exactly do we find this crew?' And so Jack pointed to one of the smaller islands on the map, and explained they'd have to head south, and quickly."  
  
"What happened when they got there?" Jamie asked. He and Jack were entirely fixated on Rowan's words, their eyes never leaving her. Jack always loved watching her when she told her stories. She lit up in the most magnificent way.  
  
"After a journey that was probably far more difficult than it had to be, since Jack was the only one with any  _real_  experience sailing, the trio rested for the remainder of the day before venturing to a shady bar not far from the docks," Rowan said. "They spoke to many people, being as vague as they could be about what their goals were. Anne had managed to convince a man who simply wanted transportation to one of the far islands to join them, and Mr. Perry had attracted another drunk who thought sailing would be a splendid idea. Jack, however, had fallen into deep conversation with a young, able-bodied man who was missing a finger.  
  
"As the man seemed to have experience sailing, and by the looks of him, was no stranger to piracy, Jack desperately wanted him for the crew. Another competent sailor, particularly one that wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, was invaluable. And so Jack decided to let the man in on what exactly they were doing. He explained that the gems were very valuable, but left out the part about them being enchanted. He told the man they'd be sold and the profit split evenly among the crew, but only if all seven were found. The man seemed very interested and asked how many they already had. Jack revealed that they had only one, but a map to the others.  
  
"The man said that he would be happy to join the crew, and even knew a few others who would like to join as well. As the man went to retrieve the others, Jack called Anne and Mr. Perry over, proudly stating that he had just found them  _several_  people willing to join up with them."  
  
"This isn't gonna end well," Jack said, wincing for his fictional counterpart. Rowan smiled.  
  
"Anne and Mr. Perry were pleased to hear this, certainly, and followed Jack as soon as the man gestured for them to come outside the bar. Waiting for them were three men and two women. One of the women wore an elaborate coat and an eye patch. The eye patch was peculiar in that it featured a heart, lovingly stitched. As soon as Jack noticed this, he realized his mistake.  
  
"'Captain Phantom,' he said. He'd heard of the woman but part of him was certain she was a mere legend. And yet, here she stood. The man with the missing finger that had lured them out, the man now smirking as he drew his gun, was no doubt her loyal first mate. The others quickly drew their weapons as well, surrounding Jack, Anne and Mr. Perry. Captain Phantom removed her own gun from its holster, pointing it directly to Anne's head.  
  
"'There's two ways we can do this,' Captain Phantom said. 'The easy way is all of you dropping your weapons now. I let you live, and  _you_  tell me where the map is, hand over the gem, and get a nice place in my brig. Then there's the hard way, where we kill you where you stand and then must  _search_  your lifeless bodies and ship for these items. Now, we're on a tight schedule, so do be dears and choose the easy way.' Jack immediately dropped his weapons, as did Mr. Perry.  
  
"Anne was appalled. 'You're just giving up?' she demanded.  
  
"'You clearly haven't heard the stories,' Jack said. 'They say she killed a man with her bare hands when she was eleven.'  
  
"'I heard she tore his heart out, still beating, and  _ate_  it,' Mr. Perry added.  
  
"'My reputation precedes me, I see,' Captain Phantom said, delighted. 'You'd be wise to listen to him, Love.' Reluctantly, Anne dropped her weapons before tossing the ring at the Captain's feet. Anne, Jack and Mr. Perry were quickly bound by the surrounding crew members, their weapons collected as Captain Phantom kneeled to take the ring, sliding it on her thumb. 'And the map?'  
  
"'It's on the ship,' Mr. Perry said. 'In the captain's quarters.'  
  
"'Thomas, be a dear and go get it, will you?' Captain Phantom said to her first mate, who put his gun away and waltzed off to the harbor to do just that. Turning her attention back to her crew and new prisoners, she said, 'Take them to the brig, we sail in the morning. We've only got two more gems to collect now.'"  
  
"So the other pirate lady  _already has_  some of the gems they were looking for?" Jamie said, eyes wide. Rowan nodded. "Then what happened?"  
  
"Well, Jack, Anne and Mr. Perry were surprised to learn this as well, and their spirits were very low considering that they were now going to be behind bars for the second time in two days. How they were going to get out of this… they didn't quite know," Rowan said. "And that's all I have so far."  
  
"Who would have thought they'd run into  _competent_  pirates," Jack said, amused.  
  
"Right? Super inconvenient," Rowan smiled.  
  
"There's a lot of girl pirates in your story," Jamie said, brow furrowed.  
  
"There  _were_  a lot of girl pirates, a lot more than you ever hear about," Rowan said. "In fact, the largest pirate fleet in history was run by a woman."  
  
"Really?" Jamie said. Rowan nodded. "Huh. Well, I can't wait to tell the guys the next part of the story."  
  
"Hope they like it," Rowan smiled.  
  
"I'm sure they will," Jack said.  
  
"We'd better go, though, tell your mom and Sophie I said goodnight," Rowan said.  
  
"All right. Goodnight, Rowan; goodnight, Jack," Jamie said, waving to them. Once more, Rowan and Jack returned the gesture.  
  
"'Night," Jack said.  
  
"Goodnight, Jamie," Rowan said before she ended the video call and closed her computer. She rubbed at her eyes and set her notebook aside. "I hope the rest of the week isn't as long as today was."  
  
"Not likely, the new moon's on Friday," Jack said, standing up again.  
  
"Right. I was invited to a show on  _Saturday_  night," Rowan said, pulling herself to her feet as well, flipping the light switch until all the lights but the lamp on her bedside table were off. "What are the chances of that happening?"  
  
"That's cutting it close," Jack said. He didn't want to tell her outright that she couldn't go. It felt strange, being something of an authority as to whether or not Rowan was allowed to see her friends at certain times. It made him uncomfortable. "Let's… see how the new moon goes first."  
  
"Fair enough," she said with a slight frown as she sat on her bed. "I'm a bit nervous for Friday, honestly."  
  
"I'll be by early," he said, plopping down on the side of the bed he'd claimed as his own. He swiftly hooked an arm around her waist and urged her to lie back with him. "I think we'll be okay."  
  
"I hope so," she said, turning to face him properly.  
  
"Hey, after the full moon, we're hopefully going to have this all taken care of," Jack said. "I'll be able to come by every night because I  _want_  to, not to be your keeper or something. You can make plans for after sunset;  _we_  can make plans for after sunset without a sand chaperone…"  
  
"You'll still want to come by  _every_  night when this is done?" she smiled.  
  
"Absolutely. Am I  _allowed_  back every night?" he said.  
  
"My window will always be unlocked for you," Rowan said, lightly pressing her lips to his. It was ridiculous, the amount that statement put him at ease.  
  
"I'll always be there waiting for you," he said.


	48. Hello, Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are ready for this chapter, we're diving headfirst into some scenes I've been planning for a while.

_"Let's see if you're a fool. Where do the Shadow People hide during the day?"_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Eight: Hello, Darkness**

* * *

Jack was seated on the futon, eyes focused, arms crossed, and lips twisting into a smile. Rowan's eyes caught his every now and again, carefully running a brush through her hair as she sat on the foot of the bed. She'd just re-dyed her hair the previous night, burgundy now covering her brown roots. The treatment she'd used after the dye had proven effective, leaving her hair smooth, glossy.

"You know," Jack said, tapping his fingers against his staff. "I'm going to be needing that back at  _some_  point."

"Needing what back?" Rowan said innocently, setting down her hairbrush. She stood upright, straightening his jacket, which fit her a bit loosely. While Jack was rather thin, he was still taller than her, with broader shoulders and a longer torso. She slid her hands into the front pocket and glanced down at the blue fabric. "Oh, this?"

"I've grown attached to it over the past few years," Jack said, pulling himself to his feet again as she lifted the hood of the jacket.

"I don't know; I like it too. I don't think you'll be getting it back," Rowan shrugged. The fabric was soft and smelled strongly of pine, like him.

"Is this your subtle way of telling me to get new clothes?" Jack asked. After all, he pretty much just had the hoodie as far as shirts went. Well, that and the clothes Arachne had made him, but he was in no rush to wear them again.

"It's my not-so-subtle way of saying that it looks better on me," Rowan said in a sing-song voice, turning about in order to allow Jack to view her from all angles. He laughed slightly, waiting until she was facing him again, taking a few steps closer.

Leaning in, gently pulling down the hood she'd just put up, he mumbled in her ear, "I think I know how to get it back."

"I told you, you're  _not_  getting it back," she said, sliding her arms around his shoulders.

"I think you're forgetting how easy it is for me to get you out of your clothes," Jack chuckled, lips brushing against her neck.

"I think  _you're_  forgetting the struggle you always have with my bra hooks," Rowan teased, earning a bite to her neck in response. She couldn't help giggling, his lips wandering from her neck and back to her mouth, muffling her laughter until it calmed.

She shivered, her breath fogging between kisses and his hands running up her sides, tugging at the jacket. They separated briefly as it was tugged over her head and quickly discarded. She was left in a thin camisole that did little to protect her from his cold touch. Not that she minded.

"Jack," she said, lightly biting at his bottom lip. "I still have to go to class, remember."

"C'mon," he groaned, sliding his cold hands beneath her camisole, over her hips. "What if we both just played hooky today? You know we'd have more fun here."

She leaned back slightly, catching his eye and smiling softly. "It's the first week of class, I can't—"

"C'mon, stop being responsible for a day," he practically pouted, pulling the hem of her camisole higher and higher.

"If I miss too much class, I fail," she said, gently setting her hands to his, stopping his pursuit.

"I'll get North to write you a note, 'it's the new moon' is an acceptable excuse, right?" he said with a winning smile.

"Jack, I would so rather be in bed with you than in my anthropology class—"

"Good, then we're on the same page," he said, setting his mouth to her throat again. She couldn't help her content sigh at the sensation, a thin layer of frost forming on her skin over goose bumps.

"But that won't get me a degree. Look, tomorrow's Saturday," she said, gently pulling him away. "No new moon, no class, no work study. No distractions."

"All right, Nice List," he sighed as she inched out of his grasp, sorting through some drawers until she found a sweater to pull on. "I'll be back early tonight, before the sun sets."

"I'll leave campus with plenty of time," she nodded, adjusting her sweater.

"No book signings," Jack said, pulling his own hoodie back on.

She rolled her eyes. "I'll try to resist."

"Hey," Jack said, hooking his staff around her waist and pulling her back to where he stood. He kissed her gently, which she gladly returned. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, heart racing each time she said it. "See you tonight."

* * *

"How do you feel about a blizzard, Paris?" Jack laughed as he rode the wind across the city's skyline. It was just getting late and the city still stirred with locals out late and jetlagged tourists.

Landing haphazardly on one of the top edges of the Eiffel Tower, he hooked his staff around one of the antennas in order to keep his balance as he looked out at the city. He smirked, satisfied as the snow coated everything in sight.

There was something about the way snow fell at night, catching the light of nearby buildings or passing vehicles. It was quiet, it was usually so lovely and untouched as most plows didn't come until the early morning. There was an almost eerie quality to it.

Unhooking his staff, Jack walked gently across the edge of the city's treasured landmark, illuminated so brightly. It truly was a nice view. Jack had stopped by a few times to see the same view from this same perch during the day in spring, as it was supposed to be a lovely sight.

But he begged to differ. Now, at night, with all the lights and the lazy haze the snow caused, the way the light reflected off the flakes, was breathtaking. Flowers had nothing on this. But he was, of course, biased.

_"HELP!"_

Jack turned at the sudden cry, wondering where on earth it could have come from that he could hear it from here. "Tooth?" he mumbled. It sounded just like her. He paused, listening carefully.

Just as he was about to write it off as nothing, he heard the voice again.

_"Can anyone hear me? Help me! I can't do this!"_

That was definitely Tooth. This felt all too familiar, and Jack found himself swallowing nervously as he leapt forward and headed south, where he was now sure the cries were coming from.

The last time he'd gone chasing after a voice, disaster struck.

"Tooth?" he called suspiciously as the distance between himself and the city's lights grew and grew. He illuminated his staff, glancing down at the lights of the neighborhoods he passed.

_"Jack! Anyone! Please, help me! I lost the sword! Help me!"_

This time the pleading was followed by a terrified scream that made him feel ill. The voice was closer than ever, he was almost certain it came from a dark, wooded area in the distance.

He became painfully aware of the lack of moon as he landed on a nearby roof, staring at the woods in the distance with a furrowed brow. Tooth wasn't supposed to be out tonight, she was supposed to be with the Muses, back at her palace. It didn't make any sense for her to be here, in this random town far enough away from Paris to avoid the light.

It had to be a trick, right?

_But how would the Shadow People know about the sword?_  She'd never actually used the blade against them, and they hadn't bothered to stop by the palace at the last new moon to know that she had been waiting for them with it.

What if she  _had_  left? Left to check on her fairies that still had their rounds to do, left because she had felt that they were in trouble? She could have easily left the Muses in Cupid's care or even on their own if Clio had her weapons and Terpsichore and Euterpe their gloves.

" _Jack! Jack, Bunny, anyone! Can anyone hear me? Help! Help me, please!"_

Sobbing, so much sobbing. But what if it  _wasn't_  Tooth?

_But what if it is? What if you leave and you could have helped? What if she's_ really _in trouble?_

There was still time. He still had time to investigate whatever this was  _and_  head back overseas to meet up with Rowan. He just had to take a quick glance. He kicked off the roof and followed the voice, his stomach knotting as it grew silent.

He came closer to the ground, not quite touching down, scanning the darkness for any sort of movement, any sign of life, his staff still illuminated as he went.

_"Oh, Jack,"_  this voice sounded like Rowan's, echoing eerily. His heart sank.  _"You've sentenced me to death."_

Something grabbed at his ankles and yanked him to the ground so quickly and with such force, Jack was left puzzled for a moment, his head throbbing (had he hit it on a  _rock?_  It felt like it), wondering just how he had gotten where he was. He leaned upward, eying his staff that had fallen from his grasp. He had no sooner extended his arm to retrieve it when he was dragged backward and away from it, palms scraping against rocks and twigs through the snow. He felt something drip down his forehead, only to freeze along the way.

Was he  _bleeding?_  When was the last time he'd bled?

All Jack could do was swear as he tried to pull himself back to his feet, only to feel something pleasantly soft, but cold, grip his wrists and pull him back to the ground. He struggled, trying to pull away his wrists and ankles, finally able to somewhat pull himself to an upright position.

Still mostly hunched over, Jack lunged for his staff, landing clumsily, his fingers barely brushing against it, illuminating it enough to eliminate a single Shadow Person that had lurked too close.

He was dragged backwards again, grabbing for his staff and clenching his teeth as he missed, yet again.

This couldn't be happening. He couldn't have fallen for one of the Shadow People's tricks. He couldn't be struggling in their grasp now, eying his staff, so painfully out of reach. Not now. Not tonight, not when Rowan needed him with her most of all. He cursed again, fighting their hold further as he felt their grasp extend up his legs, pinning him down gently, as though taunting.

They wanted to make sure he knew that keeping him down took little effort on their part.

As his eyes adjusted he watched figures appear in the shadows ahead, avoiding the staff as they approached.

_"It's the boy with the magic staff,"_  came whispering voices, overlapping each other and feeling as though they were coming from within his own mind. He tried reminding himself that they weren't. They couldn't  _force_  him to think anything, that was why they wanted Rowan in the first place.  _"Magic boy, magic boy! Come to play in the dark!"_

The shadows before him seemed to merge together until they grew, becoming a shadowy figure at exceptional height. Those dark shadows where features were supposed to go, so heartless and eerie, stared down at the trapped Guardian hard.

The tall Shadow Person seemed to stretch far over Jack before enveloping him in their grasp, mimicking his form and clinging to him. There was no more hint of light, no more faint outline of his staff, no stars in the sky past the branches of the trees.

There was nothing but darkness. Panic was an understatement.

He continued to squirm in their grasp, unable to accept that his attempts were clearly futile. He had to get out of there; he had to get back to Pennsylvania, back to Rowan.

_"You've gotten in our way so many times, magic boy,"_  the terrible voices continued to echo through his head. He tried not to listen, tried to focus on moving, getting himself free.  _"It's time for you to sit this one out."_

"You can't kill me," Jack groaned. They weren't powerful enough; he had to keep reminding himself of this. They could not kill him. They could not take his powers.

_"You're right, we can't. But we can leave you damaged, we can leave you hollow and unable to fight for the pretty mortal girl."_

He had to get out. He had to get out so he could get to Rowan before sunset.

_"We can't kill you, we can't kill most people. But we can take the Mortal Muse's power, and— oh! That will kill_ her, _won't it, Magic Boy?"_

Rowan wasn't going to die tonight,  _no one_  was going to die tonight, Jack just had to break free.

_"And if she dies without her powers, she can't ever come back as a Muse. What a pity. She'll die, and you'll never see her again."_

Jack's movements slowed as dread consumed him, much the same way the shadowy figures had. He shut his eyes, tight, now trying to combat the tears forming in them. He didn't have time for this; he had to move.

_"You love her, don't you, Magic Boy? How sweet. That will just make it all the more heartbreaking, won't it? When she dies and you then have to deal with the facts."_

Facts, facts, what facts? He had to get out of here! He tried to focus on escape, rather than their attempts to break him, but how was he supposed to escape? Every time he'd managed to escape before, it had been with the help of his staff.

_"When she dies, Magic Boy, you know whose fault it will be, don't you?"_

He had to get out of here, he had to get back to her, but he could barely move anymore. He shouldn't have left in the first place. That morning, when he'd suggested they just stay at her apartment the entire day, replayed in his memory. His mind filled with "what if"s and "if I had only done one thing differently"s.

_"It will be all your fault."_

All his fault. They weren't wrong. He'd been given a job to do, and that was to keep the Mortal Muse safe from the Shadow People. If he failed, he was letting the Guardians, the Muses, Manny, and Apollo down. But worst of all, he was letting Rowan down.

This went beyond failing his responsibilities as a Guardian, it went beyond messing up an obligation to the Muses based on an ancient alliance. This was having the power to save a girl that he loved, and being completely unable to use it. Because he couldn't get himself free.

_"You're going to be all alone, Magic Boy."_

His hands trembled, his heart raced. It was beating much too quickly. He became certain he wasn't breathing nearly enough and was unsure if he even could breathe properly while consumed by the shadows.

All alone. Would the Guardians want anything to do with him after tonight? After he screwed up yet again? How many second chances were they going to give him? Would any of it matter if Rowan wasn't around?

What if the Shadow People got their way? What if they managed to kill her while he was stuck here? What if he couldn't get away, what if none of the other Guardians were able to figure out she needed help? What if something happened and she got caught outside the barrier again?

What if, after everything that had happened in the past year, Jack Frost found himself the next day, completely and utterly alone again?

The worst-case scenarios just wouldn't stop. His stomach turned. They'd gotten exactly what they'd wanted.

_"Jack! Jack, where are you?"_  They were mimicking Rowan's voice again.  _"You're supposed to be here, Jack! Where are you?"_

Jack clenched his teeth, too weak now to even struggle. He felt empty and so, so hopeless, his heart still racing and his breathing becoming desperate.

"Please stay in Sandy's barrier," he mumbled, lying still and feeling his consciousness slipping away. "I'm sorry, Rowan… stay inside the barrier."

* * *

Rowan watched the dream sand twist outside her window, fiddling with her necklace with a frown. Jack had said he'd be by  _early_. He had said he'd be by before the sun set to avoid the problems that had occurred the last new moon.

But it was dark, and he wasn't there. She was growing worried, both for herself and for him. Where was he? Why wasn't he here yet?

She had never wished for mythological beings to take full advantage of things like cell phones more than she did that moment. She felt so helpless. How was she supposed to ask Jack where he was or inform one of the other Guardians that he was currently missing?

Rowan was a mortal girl and had no way of locating him  _or_  helping him if he needed assistance. What if he did need help? Her heart wouldn't slow; she squeezed her necklace tighter, hoping it would calm her nerves.

"Maybe he lost track of time," she muttered to herself. He could have gotten caught up in another country or harassing some other mythical being. Would it be irresponsible to do on today of all days? Absolutely. But, Jack wasn't in the business of responsibility; he taunted her for being  _too_ responsible all the time.

Except, Jack had always taken his job of protecting her incredibly seriously. She bit her lip, knowing full well that Jack wouldn't do this, he wouldn't be  _this late_  on the new moon. Not without a damn good reason.

So what was that reason? Where  _was_  he?

"He lost track of time," she said again, hoping to convince herself. "He's… he's fine."

_"Is he, Mortal Muse?"_

Rowan paled, immediately turning around, looking for the source of the voice. Overlapping whispers, all too familiar, as though they were coming from within her head. But she knew better, that anxious voice wasn't her own.

There were Shadow People nearby.

"It's okay, it's okay," she assured herself, straightening her stance. This was not the time to panic. Maybe it  _was_  all in her head. Maybe her anxiety about Jack's absence had just gotten her worked up too much.

The Shadow People couldn't be around. They just couldn't, not with the dream sand barrier outside the entire building.

_"You know that's not true, Mortal Muse."_

The lights began to dim and flicker, Rowan momentarily forgot how to breathe, trembling the whole way.

_"Let's see if you're a fool. Where do the Shadow People hide during the day?"_

Rowan glanced for the window again, still no sign of Jack. She rushed to the table, grabbing for her flashlight that she'd just purchased new batteries for, hastily turning it on.

_"Come on. Where do the_ Shadow _People hide during the day?"_

"In the shadows," Rowan whispered, stepping away from the table as the shadow it cast began to move. They were in her apartment, they were  _inside_ the dream sand barrier, what was she supposed to do? The lights began to flicker more violently and she rushed for the door as every shadow in her apartment took on more human shapes.

_"Very good. And how do they travel during the day?"_

"Through the shadows," she said her voice shaking. They'd hidden in her room when the dream sand barrier had been down, traveling through the shadows during the day, maybe even at night when she was back in Massachusetts. No one had assumed any barrier would be needed with the sun out, and it hadn't been up at all while she'd been away.

They hadn't tried anything like this before. Tonight, though, would be the night to do so, wouldn't it? There was no moon.

They had been waiting, patiently, for the right opportunity.

Where the hell was Jack? Had they created this opportunity by doing something to him? Her heart sank at the thought.

She hastily pulled on her boots, fumbling with the zipper as she continued to shine the flashlight toward the shadows slowly advancing on her. There was a hand reaching for her as the lights finally began to go out, seeming to peel itself off the floor and materialize into a solid form.

" _Very good._ "

She grabbed her coat and unlocked the door, quickly rushing through it and slamming it shut behind her. The lights in the hall were only fully illuminated for a moment before they began to flicker as well. Tugging her coat on, she sprinted down the hall, shadows seeming to emerge from every door she passed. Of course her apartment was at the far end of the hall. Of course.

Elevator or the stairs? The stairs would have more shadows, for sure, but she would have to wait for the elevator, and if the power went out while she was inside she'd be a sitting duck.

And so she shoved open the door to the stairs, cement and uninviting, every step she took echoing as she rushed down. She stumbled, skipping stairs as she went. The emergency lights were dim in the first place and quickly going out as she passed.

" _Where are you going, Mortal Muse?"_

Where  _was_  she going? All she knew was that she had to get away from here and as soon as possible. And so she shoved her way through the door at the bottom of the stairs and outside the building. She passed easily through the dream barrier, turning to find that the entire building had gone dark.

There were dark figures standing all in a row behind the barrier, seeming to watch her now that she was out of reach. She was relieved, only for a moment, remembering they couldn't cross it and were trapped inside.

That was, until she heard the terrible voices laughing, seeming so, so satisfied.

" _You truly are a fool, aren't you?"_

The realization hit her all at once.

They never had any intention of harming her while she was in the apartment. It was why they had moved so slowly, taunting, as though they had all the time in the world. Sure, there were a handful of Shadow People now trapped until daylight, but the most important factor was this: Rowan was now  _outside_  the barrier and entirely unprotected.

More shadows stretched across the pavement and she ran, once more. She stopped at her jeep, waiting silently in the parking lot. She couldn't stay here; she had to get away. Anywhere, anywhere else, somewhere with lights and back-up generators. Maybe she'd just speed away until she ran out of gas or someone who could actually fight these things found her. She reached for her lanyard around her neck only to find that it wasn't there.

Rowan glanced up at the window to her now-dark apartment. She'd left her keys behind. She swore as the realization hit her. Her car's fog lights and speed had been her only advantages in the past and now she didn't even have that.

For now she had her flashlight and the streetlights, which she rushed through as quickly as she could, unwilling to stay in the darkness between them too long. She still wasn't sure where she was going, just that it was  _away_.

" _Where are you going, Mortal Muse? Why make this difficult?"_

The girl approached a crosswalk, the red signal telling her to wait taunting her as it shined. She looked back to find the shadows in pursuit, the street lights flickering now, some even going out, as they went. The darkness was coming closer and here she was waiting to legally cross a street.

Beginning to rush across, Rowan was spooked by a car, which she swore hadn't been there a moment ago, honking at her as she ran straight in front of it. Screeching breaks accompanied the honking and Rowan wasted little time meeting the driver's irritated gaze before continuing to sprint down the street. There would be no more stopping, not to regain her balance when she stumbled or slipped on ice, not to check before crossing any other intersections.

All she could do was run. Run until she found herself on campus, the main building shining brilliantly with lights that the sustainable design club had been trying to get rid of for years.

Approaching the building, still open so that students could work on projects and attend late classes, Rowan burst through the front doors, relieved to be in florescent light. She turned, facing the glass doors and watching as the shadows approached the building and stopped short, as though considering what to do now. There were noticeably less shadows inside this building.

Rowan caught her breath a moment and prayed that the electrical system within the college would be more complex than some street lights and the cheap lamps in her old apartment building.

"This is so stupid," she practically whined to herself, pushing sweaty bangs from her forehead. It was quiet, incredibly quiet, and no one else was around. The front desk was abandoned. This did nothing to calm her nerves.

" _There's only so far you can run, Mortal Muse."_  The light above her dimmed as the shadows outside crept closer.

Rowan rushed further into the school, hands trembling as she pushed open the door to the women's restroom, still brightly illuminated, and waited, listening. There was a noticeable hum of the heating and the buzzing of the electricity keeping the lights on.

Why weren't more of the lights going out? Maybe the school's electric system  _was_  more sophisticated than the apartment's had been. For the amount she paid in tuition, it should be.

But then, maybe it was a trick. But why would they trick her like this? They'd been doing nothing short of showing off the strength the new moon gave them since they arrived.

She turned on the faucet. Moistening a paper towel, she lightly dabbed at her hairline, finding that she had begun to sweat off some of her hair dye.

"You're okay for now, just calm down," she whispered to herself, wiping away the sweat from her forehead and sides of her face. She threw the paper towel away before sitting on the counter and urging herself to take a few deep breaths.

_Where was Jack?_  She couldn't help but think again.

"It's okay. They're outside, you're inside, you just need to come up with a game plan. It's— " Rowan started before the lights in the bathroom went out. She let out a small shriek before cover her mouth with one hand and fumbling for the flashlight with the other.

Jumping down from the counter, she ran out of the bathroom, only to find that the hall lights were flickering, a few already out. She could hear other students that had been working in the nearby computer lab cursing loudly as computers crashed and went dark as well.

She wasn't safe. Trick or not, it was becoming increasingly obvious that at this moment she was not, by any means, safe. Not here.

Rowan began running for the emergency exit, the light by that door remaining on as the flickering hall lights began going out one by one, pursuing her with their darkness. She stumbled as something grabbed at her ankle but quickly recovered, not daring to look back as she continued rushing forward.

The light from her flashlight bounced around the hall as she ran, and when she burst through the emergency exit she could have cried at how dark it was outside. All the businesses nearby were dark, only some headlights from passing cars and street lights remained.

There was a rarely used parking lot in the distance, one the school hadn't bothered to pave yet, covered in snow and still lit by a few stray street lights. At least the snow would reflect the light. Rowan tried steadying her flashlight in front of her to keep the shadows from her path as she began to run once more. It was faster to cut through the snow-covered lawns, but she found herself stumbling as she went. Her hands and face were growing numb from cold.

She swore, wondering if she would even make it to one of the streetlights before the shadows caught up to her or put them out.

She didn't know where else to go; she was running out of options. They were going to catch up with her eventually.

Rowan approached the nearest street light, leaning against it and turning back to find the darkness closing in around her. The other lights in the parking were going out. There was only this one.

Rowan was so tired of running, and there was nowhere left that she could go without crossing their paths.

She leaned further against the street light, watching as the shadows approached, shining her flashlight at them to try to keep them at bay. It helped little, the light could not cover all of them.

The shadows began taking on more solid forms, hands reaching up from the snow as they had in her apartment. Rowan's flashlight went out. "No, no, no!" she cried, hitting the flashlight against her palm and flipping the switch, hoping to turn it on again.

No luck.

The streetlight above her began to flicker.

* * *

There was a thud, a flash of light. Jack cracked his eyes open and attempted to lift his head but quickly set it back down again when even that action made him dizzy. Another thud, something landed beside his head. Light flashed again.

Jack couldn't seem to keep his eyes open, and though he felt the shadowy restraints fade away to nothingness, moving was the last thing on his mind. He could feel himself slipping away into unconsciousness again. He tried only briefly to open his eyes again before giving in.

It was impossible for him to guess how much time had passed between passing out this second time and hearing another voice.

" _FROST!_  Wake up!"

Someone was shaking him. Jack's eyes shot open, his vision blurred and his head spinning. He quickly closed them again, hoping everything would slow down.

"Hey! Can you hear me? Frost?"

Jack groaned, reaching shaking hands to his head. Running his fingers over his forehead, he could feel the gash from the rock he had landed on earlier.

"Frost!" said whoever had woken him again.

"I can hear you," Jack said, eyes still closed and surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. Finally chancing opening his eyes again, he found Cupid kneeling in front of him, eying him with furrowed brow. Before he had a chance to question Cupid being there, he slowly glanced around the area. They were back in Paris, atop one of the skyscrapers in a fairly well-lit area. They were surrounded by snow, covering the roof.

"You and your romantic locations," Jack said with a cough.

"Like I said, I can and have done better," Cupid said with a sigh.

"How did we get here?" Jack said, leaning over and grabbing his staff, lying nearby.

"I found you a ways away with those Shadow People, dragged you back here where the light was better," Cupid said, standing upright. "The good news is, my stardust arrows? Work like a charm."

" _That's_  what that was," Jack said, thinking back to the thuds and light flashes he only barely recalled. He went to rub the sore spot on his forehead again when he suddenly stopped, eyes wide when he remembered exactly how he'd gotten it in the first place.

It came rushing back to him all at once. Tooth's voice. The Shadow People. Falling for their tricks. Being pinned to the ground.

_Rowan._

"What time is it!?" Jack demanded, voice still hoarse as he pulled himself to his feet in what proved to be too quick of a gesture as he immediately lost his balance. Cupid grabbed at Jack's collar, steadying him.

"Here? Shit, I don't know, something like two in the morning?" Cupid said, confused.

Jack wasn't sure if his heart stopped or if it had begun to race so quickly that he simply couldn't feel it anymore. If it was that late  _here_ , then it was a few hours past sunset back in Pennsylvania.

He might already be too late.

Prying Cupid's hands away from his jacket, Jack rushed, clumsily to the edge of the building before leaping forward and catching the wind. His flying was haphazard and he quickly found himself spiraling downward until Cupid caught up and hooked his arms around Jack's.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Cupid called over the wind.

"I need to get to Pennsylvania  _now_ ," Jack said, pulling himself out of Cupid's grasp and attempting to fly on his own yet again. Cupid grabbed his arm, clearly unamused, as Jack began to lose altitude again.

Jack scowled, sending a blast of ice into the distance in frustration. He had to get across a goddamn  _ocean_  and now. "Listen to me," Jack said, shrugging away from Cupid again. This time Jack moved slower, but stayed upright, at least. "It's already after dark there! Sandy's got the barrier up but he's keeping an eye on Pitch right now,  _I'm supposed to be there_ , I'm… she could be…"

"You can barely fly!" Cupid said, shaking his head, flying effortlessly as Jack continued to stumble. "You're not going to do anyone any good right now!"

"I need to get there, I should have already been there," Jack said, the desperation becoming clear in his voice. "This—this shouldn't have happened! Not now, not tonight."

Cupid hooked his arms around Jack's again, flying higher into the sky. Once more, Jack began to struggle. "Hey!" Cupid said. "The rate you're going, you  _might_  make it there by sunrise. So stop fighting me,  _kid_ , and I'll get you to her."

Jack slumped awkwardly, attempting to catch his breath. What a sorry situation to be in, relying on Cupid to get him somewhere because he was too weak to get there otherwise. There was not one single aspect of this situation that Jack currently had any control over.

All he could do was hope that once they got there, he'd be able to at least fly. He was still dizzy, his heart still at a wild pace.

How much of this was a result of the Shadow People?

How much was his own anxiety?

It didn't matter. The only thing that could help Jack Frost right now was finding Rowan Sawyer alive.


	49. Hazardous Conditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to have to go find a bunker or something because I don't think any of you are going to leave this chapter happy. I look forward to hearing your thoughts!

" _Through your heart is the quickest way. It is not the_ only _way."_

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Nine: Hazardous Conditions**

* * *

Rowan's eyes darted around the immediate area as the light continued to flicker above her, hoping to come up with a plan, any plan.

The Muses were supposed to be the personification of inspiration,  _ideas_. She should be able to come up with an idea, even a vague notion that might get her out of this. Her mind raced, scrambled to grasp at anything.

There wasn't a plan, she realized. There wasn't a thing she could think of. They had said that there was only so far she could run, and they were correct. She'd reached the end. There was nowhere left to go without crossing their paths.

The entire neighborhood was dark, and she was now completely surrounded by Shadow People, pulling themselves from the ground like swimmers breaking the surface of the water. Rowan had never stopped to get a good look at them before.

Their basic structure was human, or at least close enough to almost pass. They had limbs, heads, shoulders, hands and torsos. But they moved with such a peculiar grace, in the same way smoke twisted from the wick of a candle that had just been extinguished.

They didn't have faces. They only had dark impressions of something that almost passed for one, shadows where features were meant to go. There was something chilling about their gaze, as though when she stared into these shadows she was truly staring straight into nothing at all.

She was surrounded and there wasn't a thing she could do about it as the streetlight finally ceased its flickering and went out entirely.

Rowan winced, heart still racing as her extinguished flashlight slipped from her grasp, hearing it land softly in the snow.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she couldn't help but think this would be a pretty excellent time for some mythical being (preferably Jack so she knew he was okay, but beggars can't be choosers) to make an appearance.

But none did.

The Shadow Person before her stretched until it was at least twice as tall as she was. Rowan could feel every beat of her heart, shaking through her as though to emphasize her mortality. She could feel it, not only in her chest, but up through her throat, echoing in her head, pulsing through her arms and stomach. She wasn't sure that she'd ever been so aware of the functions keeping her alive as she was at that moment, the blood pumping through her veins, the cold, trembling breaths that filled her lungs. She slid her arms around herself, as though she might be able to contain the pulsing and calm it.

Her eyes were quickly brimming with tears. There was nothing left to do, and she could hardly think of another time she had been this terrified.

The Shadow Person reached long fingers forward, reaching for her chest, exposed as she hadn't brought her scarf, nor had she had a proper moment to button her coat. She closed her eyes and waited. For what, exactly, she wasn't sure, but she was certain it wouldn't be pleasant.

But there never came any touch. Instead there came a grand burst of light. She opened her eyes, expecting to find Jack but instead just found that the Shadow Person that had been standing before her was gone and the others seemed to have taken a step back.

Her eyes, drawn downward toward the light, found that her necklace, still resting against her chest, was glowing slightly. It quickly dimmed out, and as soon as it was dark again, another Shadow Person approached her, reaching for her throat.

The necklace illuminated again, once more causing her to wince, the Shadow Person disappearing from sight.

Her heart swelled and she sighed in relief, a tears finally spilling from each eye. The damn stardust necklace Jack had given to her for Christmas  _worked_.

" _Fine, Mortal Muse. The quickest way to your powers are through your heart, but does your toy protect anything else?"_

Her face fell. They'd still been able to grab at her ankle earlier, and it seemed they remembered that too as hands gripped at her wrists, pulling them down to her sides. Shadows seeming to melt into her arms and take her form, like long gloves. It was the strangest sensation, as though some kind of energy was being pulled from within her and out through her arms, to her fingertips and away. The Shadow People continued to stretch across her arms and legs.

She shook at her arms, trying to pull away from their grasp, but found that she couldn't do more than shift slightly, their hold strong. Her feet refused to budge and she found herself losing her balance and falling to her knees.

" _Through your heart is the quickest way. It is not the_ only _way."_

As the shadows on Rowan's arms came too close to her torso, the necklace illuminated again, shooing them away. But others were quick to take their place. She was finding it harder to breathe as the moments passed. As her strained breath fogged before her, she thought of Jack again.

Where  _was_  he? Was he all right?

" _Your boy abandoned you. He left you for dead. It was much too easy to keep him away. You're all alone, Mortal Muse. You always have been. You're going to die that way."_

Jack was gone; it didn't seem like he would be coming back. No one was going to save her this time. All the necklace had done was make things a bit harder and buy her a few more moments as they ate at her spirit.

They still had the upper hand. She was becoming more and more hopeless. She wondered what would happen to her unfinished stories; she wondered what would be declared her cause of death.

She was going to die in a  _parking lot_. A shitty parking lot that no one even used.

She felt her stomach turn and her head begin to spin; she felt cold. There was an emptiness beginning to form in the pit of her stomach, and it seemed that the more they pulled at her, the larger it became.

It occurred to her that perhaps she never  _wanted_  to draw or write or create anything ever again anyway. What was the point? Why did she waste so much of her time concerning herself with people and places that weren't real?

Because she loved them, that was why! Rowan shook her head, refusing to let them take that from her, to let them influence these thoughts. They were trying to destroy everything that made her what she was, Mortal Muse or not.

She couldn't let them do that. If she was going to die (and that was starting to look likely), she would die trying to remain Rowan Sawyer, not a sad shell of her.

Her stories were her reason for living; they were the spark in her eyes. They made her cry; they made her laugh. There were days she swore she'd quit but never really meant it. Days she worried she wasn't good enough and days she decided that she just didn't care either way. There were days that the stories were all she had, the characters all she could talk to. She wrote through sadness, sketched through her pain. Friends came and went, boys came and went,  _Shadow People_  showed up to try and destroy her and the stories had been there for her the whole time.

There was only one other thing that ever came close to the way that her stories made her feel and that was Jack. He didn't abandon her. He wouldn't abandon her. He  _made_  her the very object hanging around her neck that had bought her this time, this time to fight back against the darkness trying to cloud her mind.

Even when he wasn't around he was looking out for her and she couldn't let everything he'd done for her be for nothing.

" _It's no use, Mortal Muse. We must consume your spirit and then your powers come next. Just give in. Why drag things out?"_

"Because it's the only way I can fight," she said, feeling more tears coming. She was almost certain she was going to die at this point. All she could do now, was make sure she went down fighting.

" _Do you think this is one of your stories? Where the special girl with the special powers somehow manages to win, despite the odds stacked against her? Real life doesn't work that way. You're going to die, Mortal Muse."_

More shadows rushed forward and their pull on her seemed to increase. She hunched over, shaking the whole way. "I do believe in fairies, I do," Rowan whispered.

" _Peter Pan doesn't exist."_  They were trying a new tactic. _"There is no such place as Neverland. There is no such thing as Santa Claus. The Sandman is a lie, the Easter Bunny is a trick. Mythology is just that: myth. There is no North Pole, there is no palace full of fairies collecting teeth."_

"I do believe in fairies. I do, do," she whispered again.

" _This is not a J. M. Barrie novel. This is not a silly story where the bad guys will never win."_

Well, why couldn't it be? "I do believe in fairies," Rowan said, tears rolling down her face as her heart continued to race. Maybe if she said it loud enough, maybe if she said it quick enough, it would drown out their ringing voices in her head. "I do, I do. I do believe in fairies. I do, I do. I do believe in fairies. I do, I do."

" _Fairies don't exist. Fairies don't exist! Magic is a trick. Smoke and mirrors, hidden wires, special effects. There is nothing mystical about the world. It is dark. It is gray. It is hopeless and mean. Fairies don't exist."_

"I do believe in fairies. I do, I do. I do believe in fairies. I do, I do." She didn't know what else to do or say. "I do believe in fairies. I do. I do."

" _Jack Frost does not exist."_  That one stung more than she expected it to; it felt like a punch to the gut.  _"You were crazy to ever believe as much. You've made the whole thing up. It's another one of your stories. The sad part is that you've lost yourself entirely in the fantasy."_

Rowan didn't want to believe this, but the voices echoed in her mind as though they were her own thoughts. She let out a few pathetic sobs as she scrambled for proof that this wasn't all a figment of her imagination.

But… maybe it was.

She'd imagined a boy that was attractive and magical and would show up to reveal that everything she'd ever hoped and dreamed would be real actually was. She'd imagined a boy who was kind but difficult to get through to. Easy to get along with but not always easy to figure out. A boy with a smile that made her heart melt.

A boy that made a perfect protagonist.

A boy that didn't really exist.

"I do believe in fairies. I do. I do," she said, her voice becoming softer through her cries.

" _Boys like Jack Frost aren't real."_

What proof did she have? The photos she had were staged. None of her friends could see him; her mother had never acknowledged him when they were in the same room. She only had his word for it, and Jamie's, but Jamie had always had an overactive imagination as well.

Jack Frost was her grandest story yet. Jack Frost was  _only_  a story. It was why he made her feel the way her stories did. She had wanted a boy to knock on her window and fly her away ever since she first read Peter Pan as a child.

Jack Frost was her cheap imitation of Peter Pan. He did not exist. She'd let this fantasy get out of hand. She could feel the emptiness inside her growing with every thought. Her entire world was destroyed and all she could do was sob.

"I…"

Fairies don't exist. The Easter Bunny does not exist. The Headless Horseman is a story. The Boogeyman is a tool used by parents to make their children behave. Santa Claus' popular image was created by illustrators when Christmas became more commercialized; he was based on a Saint who was long since dead. The Sandman was a less scientific explanation for the crust on your eyes in the morning.

Jack Frost was an expression, an imaginary being to blame any and all misfortunes that came from the winter months on. The fantastic, twirling frost designs that happened on windows had a scientific explanation.

Elves didn't exist. Ghosts didn't exist. There was no man in the moon. There wasn't a Sun God with a chariot of flaming horses. There were no Muses.

Fairies didn't exist.

Jack Frost certainly did not exist.

It was becoming harder to breathe. She struggled to stay upright, though darkness was still pulling her arms down.

" _There, there, isn't it easier this way? Isn't it nice to know the truth? You don't want to be here, in this dark and terrible world. Just stop fighting."_

She felt as though she'd just lost her best friend. She felt as though the only proper reaction to any of this was grief and mourning. Everything she knew was a lie. What could she do with herself but cry?

What  _was_  real? Did  _any_  of her friends exist? Did she? Was she actually going to school to earn a degree? What if this was  _all_  an elaborate story she'd made up?

" _Don't worry. Your spirit's nearly destroyed. We'll have your powers soon enough and it will be all over. Doesn't that sound nice?"_

Rowan nodded, tears still rolling down her face. She didn't want to feel this way, so hopeless and sad, so hollow.

" _It's going to be all right. Just stop fighting it. Death will end your suffering."_

She didn't want to live this way. Not at all.

But did she want to die this way?

There was a flash of light, and Rowan closed her eyes, feeling the shadowy grip on her arms disappear. Had it ever been there in the first place? She opened her eyes when she was certain the light had died down. It was still dark, incredibly dark. Her vision blurred and she felt ill.

"Rowan?" came a voice. She glanced up, unable to make out the figure in the dark. His voice was sort of familiar, but she couldn't place it. She wiped at her eyes, hoping to stop her crying. She tried to stand, but found that she was too dizzy to do so, quickly returning to her hands and knees.

"At least she's still alive, there's that. C'mon, Rowan, you all right?" Rowan swallowed, still trying to stop crying, her throat dry. She slowly shook her head at his question. She was still dizzy, swaying slightly as she trembled. She grabbed for her hair with one shaking hand, keeping herself propped up with the other before vomiting, gracelessly, atop the snow. This wasn't the usual sort of vomit, however, she found, as her eyes adjusted again.

It was black and thick, like tar. This served only to confuse her.

What was even going on? How had she gotten here? Everything was a big, confusing blur.

"Well that can't be good," said the young man standing near her. "Look, I don't know! It's not like I spend my free time researching the effects of dark magic on mortals!"

Who was he talking to? Had some strange boy with an imaginary friend happened upon her at her weakest hour? Couldn't it have been a paramedic or something instead? She needed to lie down, she needed to go to a hospital or  _something_.

She was dying, after all, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint why she knew this to be true. Nothing made sense anymore.

Whispering voices filled her head.  _"Well, well, always just on time, aren't we?"_

"They're coming back, can you hear that?" the boy said.

Who was coming back?

" _The damage has already been done, boys."_  Boys? As in plural? She could only barely see one. _"Let us finish breaking our plaything."_

"Get out of here, right, if only  _I_  had thought of that. To where?" said the boy.

There were so many voices and yet she still couldn't tell who the boy was talking to. She was sure it wasn't her; he was turned away and she hadn't said a word.

"Works for me, but are you good to fly? Because I can't carry both of you."

"Fly?" Rowan whispered, confused. Both of who? Everything was still so dark and she still couldn't quite see straight. She sat down again, still dizzy.

"Not you, Rowan," said the boy, gently kneeling beside her and hooking his arms beneath her knees and around her back. He lifted her easily and she watched him in confusion, still too dark to make out much about him except for the fact that he had wings.

Was he an angel? Was this what happened when you died? You vomited up something black and inky and then an angel scooped you into his arms? There  _had_  been a light earlier. People always spoke of lights when you died.

"Am I dead?" she said, voice hoarse. She didn't remember dying. Perhaps that's how it worked.

"Not quite. Now, hold on, okay? We're getting out of here. And if you feel like vomiting again, give me some warning if you could."

She leaned her head against his shoulder, finding the fabric of his shirt to be high quality and soft. She kept a tight grip on him as he kicked up off the ground, his wings flapping as he went.

What a peculiar evening.

* * *

It was taking everything in Jack to keep flying north, barely managing to keep with Cupid's pace as they went. When they'd finally found Rowan and Cupid dropped him into the action (at Jack's insistence), he'd managed a larger blast of light than he'd expected, but delivering that attack almost immediately took its toll. He'd been unable to do much besides attempting to get back to his feet while Cupid collected the sobbing mess that was his girlfriend.

He'd barely had a chance to even look at her or assess any damage since they had found her.

"How's she doing?" Jack asked, voice still something short of a croak.

"Hasn't changed much in the past five minutes. I can feel her heart beating a mile a minute," Cupid said. "She's still sort of awake, I'm assuming that's good."

"Rowan, I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Jack said, flying a bit closer, still unable to make out much in the dark. "I was in Europe and… and I fell for one of their tricks. They were imitating Tooth's voice and I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't investigate. I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen."

Rowan didn't respond, only turned her head slightly to watch the passing scenery beneath.

Was she giving him the silent treatment? Was she that upset? He wasn't sure he blamed her, but still found his brow furrowing, wanting only for her to respond.

"Look, Rowan, if you're mad, I get it, but I swear, I never meant for this to happen! If I had any control over the situation I would have been there, I hate myself for  _not_  being there. Just talk to me, okay? I was so worried about you, I mean, I still  _am_  worried about you. Rowan?" Jack said, wincing as the desperation became clear in his tone of voice yet again.

"I don't think she's mad at you; I don't think she knows what's going on," Cupid said, adjusting his grip on the girl. "We don't know how long they were messing with her before we showed up."

Jack frowned, eying the girl in Cupid's grasp. All he wanted was to be the one holding her, to be able to feel her heart beat and know she was okay. But flying nearby would have to do for now.

"Just a little further, Sawyer," Jack said, eying North's factory on the horizon.  _Just a little further_ , then he could land and try not to collapse while they figured out how much damage Rowan had taken.

He had thought he would be thrilled to find her alive, but finding her in the darkness, only because they could so clearly hear her sobs, hadn't done a thing to ease his mind.

Again, Rowan didn't respond to him, only shivered and pulled herself closer to Cupid, presumably for warmth.

Great. Something else he couldn't do for her.

The light, shining brilliantly in each of the windows, was a welcome sight as they came closer, ducking in to the ever-open window near the ceiling. Cupid landed gracefully on the platform near the globe. Jack stumbled as he landed, as expected, but quickly used his staff to steady himself. Elves gathered to watch, curious, and a yeti immediately rushed off. To fetch North, Jack assumed.

Cupid kneeled down near the grand fireplace, setting Rowan gently on the bold, red rug on the floor, presumably to help her warm up as well as to give his arms a break. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her knees in close.

In the light, Jack was finally able to take a good look at Rowan, trying not to look as shocked as he felt. Still shivering, she was pale, with dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes. Her face was gaunt, and there were still traces of black on her lips. Quite simply, she looked ill; she looked like death.

He briefly wondered if he looked anywhere near as bad as she did. She hadn't reacted to his appearance yet. But then, she hadn't looked at him directly yet, either.

Jack kneeled before her and reached forward, intending to brush her hair out of her face. What happened next made his heart stop; he seemed to forget how to breathe.

His hand had passed straight through her face.

"No…" was all he could bring himself to utter, shaking his head. Cupid glanced at the boy in surprise. Jack reached forward again, meeting the same results. Cupid kneeled down again and reached for the girl's shoulder, proving it to be solid when he continued to  _not_  pass through her. Eying Jack in confusion, Cupid reached for his shoulder this time, proving him to be solid as well.

"Rowan, can you hear me? Rowan!" Jack said, practically yelling at the girl, reaching forward again. His hand phased through her once more.

She did not respond.

"This can't be happening, this  _can't be happening_ ," Jack said hopelessly, blinking back tears. It had to be a bad dream, a terrible nightmare.

"What is going on?" North said, approaching the group and crouching down as well. The older man's eyes quickly darted between Rowan and Jack, wincing at their sickly features. "What happened?"

"The Shadow People trapped Jack in France, they stalled him there—" Cupid began to explain.

"I can't touch her," Jack said weakly.

"—and I found him, got rid of  _those_  Shadow People with my arrows. But at that point it was already after dark where Rowan was—"

"I can't touch her," Jack said again, completely oblivious to the explanation happening around him. It had only barely registered that North was now present. It didn't make any sense; he could feel his heart being crushed as North's confused gaze darted between him and Cupid.

"—So by the time we got over there, they were already working on her. But it looked like they didn't consume her whole body like they did with Jack, they only had a grip on her arms and legs; I don't know why. But Jack managed to get rid of those ones, I grabbed her, and we headed here because you were the closest. But…now there's the whole issue of Rowan apparently not believing in Jack anymore."

Jack hadn't wanted to think it. He had hoped there was some other explanation, even though he knew very well there wasn't. But now that Cupid had said it out loud…

How could she stop believing in him?

"What do you mean? The Mortal Muse  _always_  believes! They are born inclined to do so! It is…" North paused, as though attempting to think of a way to explain, "In their programming!"

"Who are you talking to?" Rowan mumbled through her chattering teeth, glancing Cupid's way. North gently reached forward, finding that his hand passed through Rowan as well.

At least it wasn't only Jack she'd stopped believing in.

"I don't get it," Cupid said, shaking his head. "Why can  _I_  still touch her? My deal's not like the Muses, I'm like you guys. Mortals can only see me if they believe in me. It doesn't make sense that she'd stop believing in you guys but not me."

"You are the son of a Muse," North said. Jack stood, shaking, from his place directly in front of Rowan and stepped away. He couldn't stay kneeling there, staring at her shivering form and hoping that she'd look up and see him. He couldn't keep kneeling there and trying to touch her, feeling another piece of his heart shatter each time he continued to fail. Quickly losing his balance, Jack tried to use his staff to steady himself long enough to approach the nearby pillar and lean against it.

North was still talking. "The Mortal Muse can  _always_  see her sisters, that must have been passed down to you as well. But I cannot be sure, this has never happened. We were afraid they would influence children to stop believing but this… this is undoing the strong magic that is the Mortal Muse's belief."

"The new moon made them stronger than we thought. But if they're that strong, she should be dead, shouldn't she?" Cupid said. He reached forward to touch the girl again, causing Jack to glance away. "She's like ice."

"If she does not believe in me," North said, shaking his head. "Then she certainly does not believe there is a toy factory in the North Pole. The building, I am sure she can still see; the structure itself is not magic. But the fires are. We could not risk anything less controllable with the elves and the toys. The warmth it provides will not help her."

"So as far as she's concerned she's in some abandoned building in below freezing temperatures," Cupid said.

"She's going to freeze," Jack winced. His mind flooded with images from back when he and Melpomene would find people dying in the cold. Watch their colors change and their movements become slow, confused. Watch as their breathing stopped fogging the air before them.

Rowan rolled her cold lips inside her mouth in an attempt to warm them, still shivering. Jack gripped his staff tighter, trying to get his hands to stop trembling as his stomach turned. He couldn't watch her die like that. Die because of the weather that  _he_  personified.

But there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"No," North said immediately, getting back to his feet. He focused his attention to Cupid. "Find out if she remembers anything. If she simply  _forgot_  that she believes, Tooth may be able to fix this easily. If she has been convinced to  _stop_  believing, it may be more complicated. I am going to summon the others now. In meantime, put arms around her, keep her warm."

North walked past Jack and toward the complicated control panel near the globe to set off the signal. Jack watched North for only a moment before focusing his attention back to Cupid, who pulled Rowan close against his chest. Jack wasn't sure his frown could become any more apparent.

"Hey, Rowan, do you recognize me?" Cupid asked. The girl nodded, slowly. "Do you know who I am?"

She seemed to hesitate before shaking her head. "It's Cupid, Rowan, we met at the ball, remember?"

"No," she whispered. "That wasn't real."

"You remember it, though," Cupid said.

"Yes," she said. "But it wasn't real."

Cupid glanced Jack's way. His displeasure must have been clear on his face judging by the way Cupid sighed, before stating, "She's the Mortal Muse. She's for all intents and purposes my  _aunt_."

"I didn't say anything," Jack mumbled.

"Didn't have to," Cupid said. He turned his attention back to Rowan. "Do you remember the Muses? The Guardians?"

"They're not real, none of it is real," she said, closing her eyes tightly as her tears were likely only making her eyes all the more cold.

"Come on, you know it is," Cupid said gently. The girl only shook her head again, eyes still shut, and tried to push Cupid away with little success.

"Jack, perhaps you should lie down," North said, drawing Jacks attention as he stepped away from the globe. He reached forward to touch the gash on Jack's forehead. Jack winced beneath the man's touch, feeling every sore part of his body now that adrenaline was fading. "You are not looking so good. Take one of the guest rooms and—"

"I'm not going anywhere," Jack said, clearing his throat after his voice cracked. "I… she was  _my_  responsibility."

"What happened with the Shadow People in France?" North asked.

"They mimicked Tooth's voice," Jack said, taking a breath and hoping it would steady  _his_  voice. "I thought it might be a trick, but I had to double-check. They trapped me there for hours before Cupid showed up,  _I should have been there._  I fell for the same trick  _twice_ , North…"

"Calm down, calm down, the Shadow People did not kill her, that is what is important," North said, setting his hands to Jack's shoulders. Jack shook his head.

"It won't mean anything if she freezes to death," Jack said. She'd still have her soul and the Shadow People wouldn't have her powers. That was the only difference it made, and while it was important in the whole "state of the world" aspect of things, Jack couldn't care less about preserving her powers or the chance of Apollo bringing her back.

Rowan was suffering, dying in someone else's arms and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it, slow it down, or at the very least ease her pain. If he had been there when he said he would, this wouldn't be happening. She wouldn't be in this sorry state.

_What if we both just played hooky today?_

If he'd only stuck around.

"She will not freeze to death," North said. "The others will be here soon, we will figure something out."

"How can you be so sure?" Jack said, his voice small.

"Because  _I_  still believe," said North. "Have a little hope, hm?"

A tunnel appeared in the floor beside them, expanding just enough to allow Bunny to jump through.

"Speak of the devil," North mumbled.

Bunny opened his mouth to speak before stopping immediately, eyes falling to Jack's face and shock crossing his features. Perhaps Jack  _did_  look about as bad as Rowan did.

"What the hell happened to you?" Bunny said at last.


	50. Changeover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Are you ready for a long chapter? Have you recovered from the last one? All the Muses are back for this one, so as a reminder, over on my RotG tumblr and deviantART page (links on my profile) I've got character sheets for all of them if you need it for reference. I know it's a lot to keep track of. I just reblogged them again over on the tumblr so they should be pretty easy to find.
> 
> Also, guys! Guys! This is chapter fifty! That's so crazy, this story was never supposed to be this long. I thought it'd be thirty or so but then... I guess I got into it more than I expected to. Anyway, it means a lot to me that you guys are still sticking with me and reading this. I know it's easy to lose patience or interest these things, I just really appreciate it. Love you guys!

_It hit Jack yet again how little he knew about her despite the time they'd spent together in the past. Every time he thought he could read her, she puzzled him again._

* * *

**Chapter Fifty: Changeover**

* * *

The Muses came in groups. Melpomene appeared out of nowhere as usual, with her tragedy mask secure and Euterpe and Terpsichore on either arm. Jack could barely find it in himself to find her presence as disconcerting as he usually did. She was the least of his problems, presently.

Thalia came seconds later, her comedy mask still with its unwavering grin, and Erato tagging along. The others, gifted with flight by Apollo himself, or, in Clio's case, by means of her own invention, were commuting with Tooth and sure to be here "any moment."

North had promised an explanation as soon as everyone was present. Jack had pulled up his hood as soon as the Muses began to arrive, unwilling to field more questions about his appearance. Those present seemed to pay him little mind, however, instead cautiously approaching Rowan, asking Cupid what was wrong since North wasn't saying anything quite yet.

Cupid simply said it was a long story.

Bunny remained close by Jack's side, eying the boy suspiciously. "What?" Jack said, straightening his stance as well as he could.

"You're over here sulking and she's over there freezing,  _what the hell happened?"_  Bunny said in hushed tones.

"I messed up again,  _surprise,"_  Jack mumbled, barely glancing up as Sandy floated inside, towing a bound and gagged Boogie Man with him.

"Is that a muzzle?" Melpomene called to the new arrivals. "It's a good look for you."

Pitch simply rolled his eyes at the woman's comment before cocking a brow in the Sandman's direction. Sandy sighed and with a wave of the hand, the elaborate sand muzzle and restraints were gone.

"If you had done that  _earlier_ , I could have  _told you_  that Jack Frost and the Mortal Muse's fears have been off the charts all night," Pitch said, nonchalantly, massaging his wrists.

"We're here! What happened?" Tooth called as she led the remaining Muses inside, followed by a few stray tooth fairies, one of which fluttered over to Jack, peering at his face with a look of worry.

"Hey, Baby Tooth. I'm okay," Jack said, clearing his throat again. It seemed that the hoarseness was not about to let up any time soon. Baby Tooth frowned, clearly skeptical.

Calliope and the other Muses that had just arrived landed with a sense of purpose, immediately walking straight for Rowan without so much as an acknowledgement toward the others. Calliope kneeled down before the mortal, carefully lifting her chin to get a better look at her face. It hadn't improved any in the past few minutes. She was still a deathly shade of pale, her cheeks only slightly pink thanks to the cold. Jack was just glad she wasn't blue yet.

Polyhymnia was the next one to actually come in contact with Rowan, sitting on the floor beside her and pulling the shivering girl into her arms, relieving Cupid of his duties for now. Again, Rowan tried to push away, and again Rowan failed.

"What happened?" Calliope said, echoing Tooth as she stood upright again and turned to properly address the others. Her gaze fell to Jack and she approached him quickly, a coldness in her eyes more intense than he'd ever seen before. Baby Tooth darted out of the way as Calliope grabbed him by his collar, his hood falling back. "What the hell did you do?"

Jack pried her hands away and leaned against the pillar again, for fear that he'd fall if he didn't. He couldn't find it in himself to respond.

What was he supposed to say?  _Sorry, Calliope, I let the Mortal Muse, who I care very deeply for, fall victim to the Shadow People. Which, is exactly what everyone trusted me_ not _to do. Oops?_

"It looks like he got into a fight with a blunt object. You okay? Rowan come after you with a baton instead of a taser this time?" Thalia asked. She and several of the others cringed as they got a good look at him now that his hood was down.

"The Shadow People imitated Tooth," North said, finally beginning the promised explanation now that everyone was present. "They lured Jack into a trap. Cupid found him a few hours later."

"Where was this?" Tooth said.

"Somewhere in France," Cupid said.

"That is  _not_  where Tooth sent you to check on her fairies,  _Eros_ ," Erato said, lips pursed and arms crossed.

"That's really not the important thing to be dwelling on right now," Cupid said. "What  _is_  important is that my stardust arrows worked out really well, thanks for asking, and I was able to pull Frost out of harm's way."

"But by that point it was already dark in Pennsylvania," North said. "Jack and Cupid got there as quickly as they could, but the Shadow People were already working on Rowan."

Various images immediately flashed above Sandy's head, all ending with a question mark.

"We don't know why she left the barrier, we went to her apartment first and she wasn't there, everything was dark," Jack said in response to Sandy's inquiries. The small man frowned, thoughtful.

"Well, I don't know about your globe, but mine wasn't showing anything abnormal," Pitch said, glancing back at North's globe as though to confirm that, indeed, the lights weren't flickering as much as they had been the last new moon.

"They must have caught on that messing with the kids in the nearby areas is what made Sandy send reinforcements last time," Bunny said. "I didn't think they were that smart."

"So where  _was_  she, then, if not in the barrier?" Calliope said.

"We found her a few blocks away from the apartment. But it's weird, when I found Jack, the Shadow People consumed him entirely. But with her, it was like they were avoiding coming in contact with her head and torso," Cupid said. "Either way, Jack managed to get rid of them long enough for me to grab her so we could leave."

"Why is she so cold, though?" Polyhymnia asked.

"It would seem, that in attempt to break her spirit, the Shadow People have managed to convince her not to believe in any of this," North said, approaching the girl and passing his hand through her head. There were a few scattered gasps throughout the room. Sandy, Bunny and Tooth exchanged worried glances. The Muses each frowned, a few leaning close to whisper to one another scandalously. "And since she does not believe in me, she does not believe in any of the magic keeping these fires going."

"Maybe we should just move her somewhere else," Terpsichore said. "You know, somewhere  _not_  below zero and in almost-constant night."

"It's always warm in the Warren," Bunny suggested as North stepped away from Rowan to re-take his place near the Guardians.

"Will moving her to another magical place be any help? The Warren's underground, what if she just… thinks she's in a tunnel somewhere and freaks out?" Euterpe said.

"It's always warm and springtime there  _because_  of magic," Tooth frowned.

"We need her somewhere safe, but all the safe places are magic," Clio said. "Even my workshop's got more enchantments on it than Baba Yaga's place."

"Arachne's place is out too, then," Thalia said.

"We cannot help her if she does not believe," North said, shaking his head.

"Go to the palace, bring me back Rowan's teeth, quickly!" Tooth said to her fairies, who swiftly flew off to do what they were asked.

"She remembers believing," Cupid said. "I asked if she recognized me, and she did. She remembers the ball and all that, but she's just convinced that she made it all up."

"The memories might still help though, right?" Thalia asked. All eyes fell to Tooth, who shifted uncomfortably beneath their gaze.

"I'll try. But the memories might not be enough," she said. Jack's heart sank. "Rowan's an adult, and once an adult makes up their mind about not believing in the Guardians… it's hard to undo that with memories of belief alone."

"Sanderson can put her to sleep," Calliope said. "Dreamers always believe, then at least she'll be able to feel the warmth."

More images flashed above Sandy's head as he frowned slightly. " _Children_  dreamers always believe. It's the same deal as the teeth. He can try but there's no guarantee," Bunny said.

It seemed every solution was quickly being shot away, as Rowan continued fading in the middle of it all.

"It would be a temporary solution anyway, we can't just go all 'Sleeping Beauty' on her," Erato pointed out. "She's still mortal, she's still got to eat and everything else, it's not like we can keep hitting her with dream sand and put her on an IV or something until this whole thing blows over."

"Now, now, plenty of people have lived long, safe lives that way," Thalia said. "You know… in coma wards."

"Get  _off_  me." The platform went silent, everyone turning to find Rowan inching away from Polyhymnia, who reluctantly released her from her warm grasp. Rowan moved slowly, shaking, to her feet. It seemed to take every ounce of concentration, every bit of strength she had in her.

She took no more than half a step away before beginning to spiral to the floor. Terpsichore stepped forward swiftly to catch her before carefully lowering her back to the floor. Rowan clutched the sides of her head, blinking back tears. "None of this is real, none of this is real, none of this is real."

"Rowan, it's okay, it's okay, calm down," Polyhymnia said, slowly approaching the girl again. "We just want to help you."

"Just let me die without figments of my imagination taunting me," she cried, still clutching her head. Subtle tones of blue were beginning to show themselves in her skin. Jack took a step forward and paused, remembering once more that there wasn't anything he could do to ease her mind. He quickly found himself leaning against the pillar again to keep from falling in much the same manner she had. "Just go away, you're  _not real_."

"Didn't everything make more sense when we  _were_  real, Rowan?" Terpsichore asked, still kneeling nearby. "Come on, it'll be easier if you let yourself believe again."

"There's too many voices, there's too many voices," Rowan said, closing her eyes tightly. "I just want it to stop! None of it is real, none of it is real."

"If this keeps up, she's going to have a nervous breakdown," Melpomene said matter-of-factly.

"It's been a while since I've seen a good nervous breakdown," Pitch nodded. Jack could practically see his features becoming livelier with each of her sob. His stomach turned at the thought.

"Stop  _enjoying_  it so much, would you?" Jack scowled.

"I thought you appreciated  _fun_ , Frost," Pitch said with a shrug.

"Potential nervous breakdowns aren't fun for most people, Pitch," Melpomene pointed out.

"This isn't already a nervous breakdown?" Clio said, gesturing to the sobbing girl.

"Okay, breakdowns aside, can we take a moment and appreciate the irony of this situation?" Thalia said. "I mean, she was never in any danger of hypothermia until the moment she  _stopped_  believing in Jack Frost."

Jack winced. Euterpe immediately ran a finger across her throat as an indication that Thalia, Melpomene and Pitch should  _stop talking._

"Well, there must be  _something_  that can be done," Urania said, frowning.

"Preferably sooner, rather than later," Jack said, eying Rowan again. His focus never strayed too far. She was still shivering, at least. It was once that stopped that she would be in deep trouble. "Before she starts losing fingers, if you could."

" _You_  will be silent, while we attempt to fix  _your_  mess, Frost," Calliope said bitterly, her voice cutting through the room like a knife. Jack's gaze darkened as he met her eyes again.

What he wouldn't give to blast the woman with ice, to yell at her that he had done more to protect Rowan than she ever could have. To describe to her all the horrible ways Rowan was going to die if they didn't find a solution  _soon_.

But he couldn't find his voice. He couldn't bring himself to move the hand gripping his staff so tightly. This  _was_  his mess, and as it stood, there was no way he could assist in fixing it.

Tooth's fairies arrived with an ornate container in hand, lowering it gently into Tooth's grasp. They served as a welcome distraction to the others in the room, who had fallen silent again at Calliope's last comment.

"Tooth said the memories  _alone_  might not help," Euterpe said. "Why can't we just, you know,  _inspire_  her to believe?"

"And then Tooth does the memory thing and ta-da?" Thalia said. Jack's eyes lit up, glancing at the other Muses for an answer. It made enough sense, surely it would work? Rowan didn't need another plan shot down, not now.

"It took strong magic to undo this, and we don't usually work with belief  _directly_ ," Clio said, fiddling nervously with one of her curls.

"But you all help keep children believing, is why this alliance exists," North said.

"She's not a child, she's got a strong will," Erato said. "She's already fighting back, I mean—"

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking," Rowan mumbled, her voice growing smaller and smaller as Polyhymnia pulled her back into her grasp. Rowan did not fight this time.

"Poly probably comes the closest to actually inspiring belief, maybe she should do it," Calliope said.

"I would be glad to, but I tend to work with existing belief," Polyhymnia said with a small frown before returning her attention to Rowan, gently wiping tears from her cold face. "It's going to be all right, Sister. Please don't cry."

"If any of you were going to show up why couldn't it be Jack?" Rowan sobbed softly. Jack glanced up, heart swelling as she mentioned his name.

Having confirmation that she hadn't outright forgotten him was at least a  _little_  comforting. But it seemed she considered him a hallucination that just so happened to be absent now.

"You miss him, don't you?" Erato said, kneeling down before Rowan.

"None of this is real," was all Rowan said. Her speech was starting to slur. That wasn't good; Jack had seen this play out too many times.

But how much was hypothermia and how much was the aftermath of dealing with the Shadow People?

"But Rowan, it is, and you can see him again if—" Erato started.

"Stop!" Rowan cried, seeming to have to make a dedicated effort to keep her voice steady. "Go away… go away."

"Jack's right. We need to do something  _soon_ ," Tooth said, getting ready to set her fingertips to the top of Rowan's tooth box.

"We help influence and shape belief, but outright  _creating_  belief in someone hasn't been done," said Melpomene.

"I don't think you need to create it, I think she needs help finding it again," said Cupid.

"I think you can do it," Euterpe said to Calliope. "Inspire her to acknowledge that this is real. You're the oldest, you're the best—"

"I'm the best at  _epic_   _poetry_ , Euterpe," Calliope said. "I am not the best Muse, there  _isn't_  a best Muse."

"It came out wrong, you've got the most  _experience_  is all," Euterpe said.

"She doesn't need experience, she needs strong magic to undo what they did," Calliope said, walking back to where Rowan sat, gently setting a hand to either side of her head. "We're  _all_  going to do it."

"All at once? Won't that be overwhelming?" Polyhymnia asked.

"Inspiring another Muse is hard as it is, mortal or not. It was easier before, like when Erato messed with her dream, because she wasn't fighting us. As it stands, she's fighting us now and between that and the dark magic that undid her belief in the first place we need everyone's help," Calliope said. "So get over here."

Polyhymnia adjusted her grip on Rowan, now only barely touching her arm to keep her steady. Clio and Erato stood on either side of Calliope, gripping Rowan's shoulders. Thalia kneeled nearby and took Rowan's left hand. The girl tried to take her hand back and failed, each Muse tightening their grip. Urania, Terpsichore and Euterpe tried to find room either kneeling or standing to gently set a hand to her arm or knee.

"Mel," Calliope said, she and the others staring at the tall Muse who had yet to approach the others.

"Sure you want me involved?" Melpomene said, seeming suddenly fascinated with the slowly turning globe. "I might just make things worse."

Was Melpomene being considerate for once, or was she being dramatic, as always? It hit Jack yet again how little he knew about her despite the time they'd spent together in the past. Every time he thought he could read her, she puzzled him again.

All the same, he knew that he didn't want her inspiring anything in Rowan.

But the Muses had a different plan.

"This has tragedy written all over it," Clio said.

"Get over here," Thalia said. "We've got to balance each other out."

Melpomene sighed, casting Pitch a glance before walking carefully over to the others, kneeling beside Thalia and taking Rowan's right hand in hers.

"Be ready with her memories Tooth, we're hitting her all at once," Calliope said. Tooth nodded. The remaining Guardians and Cupid stood awkwardly, having little else to do but exchange concerned glances with one another. Pitch stood poised, a good distance away from everyone, watching the Muses with only vague interest.

"Get ready, Sisters. Now!" Calliope said.

Each Muse closed her eyes and breathed deep, controlled breaths, entirely focused. Rowan pulled sluggishly at their grasps, tears still rolling down her face. Tooth lightly pressed her fingers to the top of Rowan's box, the panels lighting up as she did.

Jack hadn't been sure what to expect of Rowan's reaction, but her cries becoming all the more hysterical was certainly not it. "Nothing makes any sense," she cried, still weakly attempting to pull away. "Nothing makes any sense anymore.  _Nothing makes any sense."_

Overhearing her sobbing in the bathroom after learning that she was the Mortal Muse and that Shadow People were seeking to feed on her was one thing. Witnessing her in hysterics, still trying to get away from the Muses, still shivering and closing her eyes to shield them from the cold, was something else entirely.

He still didn't know what to do.

There was only one thing he could think of, lifting his free hand and waving it slightly until a single snowflake appeared. The last thing Rowan needed was snow or ice of any kind. But this was all he could do. He urged the snowflake forward, passing by the Muses unnoticed and landing gently on Rowan's bottom lip.

It wasn't the best way to influence belief, but as her sobs began to calm, he at least began to feel that he had done  _something._

Jack nearly lost his balance again as North set a hand to his shoulder in what Jack was sure was  _supposed_  to be a comforting gesture. Glancing up at the older man, Jack found North's gaze still locked on the Muses in concern.

Clio was the first to let go. Urania, Thalia, Terpsichore and Euterpe followed quickly. Polyhymnia and Calliope came next, watching Rowan cautiously. Erato slowly pulled her hand away, and Melpomene was the last to release her grasp on Rowan.

The girl had stopped speaking, reduced only to silent tears as she set a hand to either side of her head as though in great pain. "Sanderson, if you would," Calliope said. The other Muses stood and stepped out of the way for the Sandman to approach, gently tossing a handful of his dream sand to Rowan's face. She slumped over, steadied by Calliope until she was lying on her side. A few stray tears rolled down her cheeks as the glowing sand twisted into shapes above her head.

Hesitantly, Sandy kneeled beside the girl and gently reached a hand forward, toward her face. When his hand made contact rather than passing through her, he turned his head to grin at the other Guardians, who immediately sighed in relief. Jack couldn't help but return the grin.

"Is it permanent?" Melpomene said, adequately bringing down the mood almost immediately.

"Maybe," Clio said. "She fought us every step of the way."

"We'll have to see when she wakes up," Calliope said. "But at least for now she can warm up and  _try_  to recover. Hopefully the dreams will help."

"So, she could wake up and be back to not believing," Jack said, wincing at the thought.

"We just… shouldn't rule that out," Clio said.

"May we put her in one of the guest rooms, Nicholas?" Polyhymnia asked. "I daresay it will be more comfortable to recover there."

"Yes, yes," North said with a nod. He turned, removing his hand from Jack's shoulder and called for one of the yetis that had been standing nearby, but out of the way. "Help them set up in one with a fireplace."

"Have you got her, Poly?" Erato asked as Polyhymnia scooped Rowan into her arms.

"Yes, I think so. I've lugged Thalia around enough times," Polyhymnia said, standing upright and seeming to have no issue carrying the girl.

"It's nice to have Poly somewhere nearby when you're black out drunk," Thalia said with an "innocent" smile. "Although I'm sure Rowan weighs more than I do, she's so much  _taller_  than I am."

_"Everyone_  is so much taller than you are," Terpsichore said. She paused, seeming to realize something before adding, "Except Sandy."

"You're going to want to put her on her side, she vomited up something black when we found her," Cupid said as Polyhymnia followed the yeti that was assigned to help her.

"Something else she's had to do with me," Thalia said.

Determined, Jack tried to steady himself with his staff as he took a step away from the pillar again. His knees buckled immediately, his grip tightening on the staff, knuckles turning white. He attempted to take another step, but before he knew exactly what was happening, Bunny was standing directly in front of him. He gently pushed Jack back against the pillar, where at least he'd be steadier.

Jack sighed, choosing to eye the ground rather than the Pooka. He wanted to follow Polyhymnia and the yeti, to keep an eye on Rowan as they got her settled, to make sure that she  _actually was_  going to be all right.

But if his sore, weakened body, and the Easter Bunny keeping him from trying to exert any energy from it weren't indication enough, that wasn't going to happen. At least, not now.

"I have to go," Urania said, eyes fixed on the stars visible outside the opening in the ceiling.

"Apollo?" Calliope winced.

"And Tsar Lunar, they want to speak to me immediately," said Urania, turning to face the others. "They ask that you all wait here for my return. I imagine I'll have quite a bit to say."

"Joy," Melpomene sighed, her tone sarcastic.

"Don't they usually just tell you what they need to say in the stars?" Tooth asked.

"Not when it's a matter of great importance or there is much to be discussed," Urania frowned. "Both of which are true this time, I assume."

"Go on, then," Terpsichore said. Urania nodded, bracing herself, knees bent, before she shot through the opening in the ceiling, high into the sky like a shooting star.

The remaining Muses whispered softly amongst themselves, Melpomene being the only stray, standing tall next to Pitch and watching the globe again. Cupid stood near the Guardians, eyes still fixed on the opening in the ceiling where Urania had just vanished from sight.

"Jack," Tooth said, flying close and watching him with concern. Baby Tooth hesitantly landed on his shoulder. "Can I ask you about what happened earlier?"

Jack nodded. Of course the hasty explanation given earlier wasn't going to cut it for long.

"What did the Shadow People say when they were pretending to be me?" she asked. The other Guardians watched him carefully, waiting for the answer.

"They were calling out for help. They said you lost the sword and that you needed help and I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't investigate and it really  _was_  you that was in trouble," Jack said, Tooth's expression growing more and more worried as he continued to speak with his hoarse voice.

"How would they know about the sword?" North said, puzzled.

"That's what I figured," Jack coughed.

"Maybe someone tipped them off," Bunny said loudly, glaring deliberately in Pitch's direction. Pitch and Melpomene turned from the globe; the Muses grew silent as the tall man rolled his eyes at the comment. Cupid turned to properly watch.

"I can't believe we're going to go through this again," Melpomene scowled.

"I'll explain this to you once more. So simply that even  _you_  can understand, Rabbit," Pitch said. His next words were spoken slowly, monotonously, "I. Need. Rowan. Sawyer. Alive. So. That. I. Am. Not. A. Target."

"So you say," Bunny sneered. "The only ones that should know about that sword are in this alliance, so  _someone_  must have said something."

"Why am I the number one suspect? After all,  _I'm_  not the one who just so  _happened_  to be at the right place at the right time as though I  _knew_  Jack Frost was going to be needing some rescuing," Pitch said, glancing in Cupid's direction.

"You think  _I_  tipped them off so they could trick Jack?" Cupid said, outraged.

"You had to manipulate your way into this alliance, what better way to solidify your place by rescuing  _two members_  of it in one go?" said Pitch. "Just seems a bit  _convenient_  to me, is all."

The Guardians each exchanged glances. Tooth seemed nervous at the accusations, North and Sandy puzzled, and Bunny more than a bit irritated. Jack wasn't sure what to think. He didn't like Cupid, not by a long shot, but something didn't seem right.

Would Cupid be willing to risk the Muses like that? It seemed unlikely.

"You've got a lot of nerve," Erato said through clenched teeth, stepping toward the Boogieman before Calliope set a hand to her shoulder to stop her.

"Cupid, Tooth asked you to check on her fairies over in Sweden," Calliope said. "It seems a long way for you to show up by coincidence."

"Don't tell me you believe him," Cupid said, taken aback. Erato appeared hurt as well.

"I don't want to, so help me clear your name. Why were you in France instead?" Calliope asked.

"The errand was a cover so that I could leave and test my arrows without any of you throwing a fit," said Cupid. "I went to France because I know the area better."

"Did  _you_  know about this?" Bunny said, turning to Tooth.

"Yes," said Tooth. "He was going to sneak off and test the arrows anyway, I just gave him a cover story."

"So, we're meant to believe that you just  _happened_  upon the specific little dark corner in France that Jack Frost was being held at?" said Pitch.

"You find Shadow People by following the dark," said Cupid, eyes narrowed. "Besides, you're not the only one that can pick up on emotion, I could feel those signals miles away."

"You're a  _love_  god," Thalia said.

"I  _know_ ," Cupid said, turning his attention back to Jack. "When they attacked you, you kept thinking about Rowan, didn't you? You were worried out of your mind  _for her_ , weren't you?"

All eyes fell to Jack again. He hesitated a moment, not really wanting to get into this, before nodding, slowly.

"Aww," Euterpe said, drawing confused looks from the others, Jack included. "What? That's adorable. He loved her so much that Cupid picked up on it from miles away? Come on."

Jack winced. There was no more helping how much of a sap he was, and to make matters worse, now  _everyone_  knew.

Including the goddamn Boogie Man.

"Touching," Pitch said, rolling his eyes.

"The word you're all looking for," Melpomene said. "Is  _'tragic.'"_

"Regardless, this gives us a reasonable explanation behind Cupid being there," Calliope said. "And I believe him."

"Nepotism at its  _finest_ ," Pitch sighed.

"Speculation at its finest," Clio added, glaring. "Cupid wouldn't sell us out."

"Let us all just be grateful that everyone got out of this new moon  _alive_ ," North said.  _"That_  is what is important. Besides, we do not have all information, hopefully Rowan will be able to tell us more once she recovers."

_"If_  she recovers," Melpomene said.

"Perhaps Apollo and Tsar Lunar will know more," Erato suggested.

"Then we wait for Urania, and stop making accusations," Calliope said. And with that, the group fell into awkward silence. Cupid walked across the platform, standing near the fire and at a decent distance away from the others, staring intently at the painting above it. The Muses soon returned to their whispering, Melpomene and Pitch doing the same.

"Bring me first aid kit, you know where they are," North said to some nearby, eavesdropping elves, before walking away from the others, briefly, to retrieve a chair. He set it beside Jack, pointed to it, and said sternly, "Sit."

It was not a request. It was not a suggestion. It was an order. Jack could not find it in himself to be annoyed at the notion of being ordered around, at least not now.

"I don't need first aid," Jack said, shakily setting himself down in the chair, wincing at the effort it took.

"You haven't looked in a mirror at all tonight, have you?" Bunny said.

"Wasn't a top priority," Jack said. Sandy furrowed his brow and wandered off to another part of the pole, seeming to be looking for something.

"What happened to your forehead?" Tooth asked, reaching forward to push his hair away from the gash there.

"I think I hit it on a rock?" said Jack vaguely, avoiding eye contact. "You know… when they grabbed me by the ankle and slammed me down against the ground."

Sandy returned, holding a small mirror in his hands as North began to sort through a case that the elves had retrieved for him. Jack took the mirror from Sandy, holding it before himself and wincing, as everyone else had, upon seeing his face.

The gash on his forehead was much worse than he thought it was, or perhaps the frozen blood caked over it just made it appear that way. Dark circles beneath his eyes weren't exactly strange occurrences for him, but now they were so prominent that his eyes appeared darker and deeper-set than they really were. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were pale.

Jack Frost had never looked that lively to start with, still retaining many of the features of someone that succumbed to hypothermia. But now he looked nothing short of sickly death.

"Now, how to treat wound that is hidden behind frozen blood?" North said.

"I don't know, maybe just leave it alone, at least it's not actively bleeding," Bunny said.

"I'm not sure it'll heal this way," Tooth said. Still eying his reflection, Jack reached for the blood, attempting to get a grip on it, and in one swift motion, broke it off his forehead with a wince. The others cringed at this sudden movement. Jack turned the solid, red sheet between his fingers.

"Fascinating," Bunny said, taking it from Jack to examine more closely. Jack glanced back to the mirror, eyeing the gash. It was certainly impressive; the rock had done its damage. He wondered if it would scar.

"Well, now we can see cut, at least," North said, setting a wet cloth to the cut, which left Jack wincing. His forehead had simply been sore before, but now it  _stung_ , leaving the boy to shrug away quickly.

"What the hell is on that?" Jack said, eying the cloth.

"Vodka," North said as though it was obvious. "Hold still!"

"Why  _vodka?"_  Jack cringed as it soaked into his wound again.

"Have you  _met_  North?" Bunny said, finally discarding the frozen bit of blood.

"Besides, much harder to freeze," North nodded.

"I'm sure regular rubbing alcohol would be the same, North," Tooth said, setting a comforting hand to Jack's shoulder.

"Ha! What use have I for rubbing alcohol? Have plenty vodka," said North. "Treated all scrapes my children got with it."

"You tried to treat Alexander's broken arm with it," Bunny said with a roll of the eye.

"And he did not even  _remember_  how painful setting it back in place was," North shrugged, removing the cloth as soon as he was certain the cut was clean. Sandy hovered close to Jack, holding a few butterfly bandages before carefully setting three across the cut.

"Thanks," Jack said, glancing at the mirror again. He was still quite the unsettling sight, but the bandages were a  _slight_  improvement over a frozen trail of blood, at least.

"You should rest," Tooth said, taking the mirror from his grasp and setting it aside. "Some sleep will probably do you good."

"I can't sleep now," Jack said, shaking his head.

"After Urania comes back and tells us what's going on, then," Bunny said.

Jack opened his mouth to argue but stopped short. He'd had difficulty moving the entire evening and as it was, he wasn't sure he had the energy to argue against resting for much longer. He sighed, and nodded. "Fine."

Time seemed to drag, everyone growing fidgety and impatient until finally Urania touched back down at the platform.

"As expected, I have a few announcements from Apollo and Tsar Lunar," she said. Everyone drew closer to her to listen, except for Jack, still seated but listening intently.

"First, effective immediately, Jack Frost has been relieved of his duties guarding the Mortal Muse," Urania said. Jack's stomach dropped. He wasn't exactly  _surprised_  by this news, but if that wasn't confirmation of his failure, he wasn't sure what was. "She will remain at the pole until either a safer location can be found, or the Shadow People are no longer a threat, whichever comes first."

"She is welcome as long as she believes and can benefit from the magic here," North said. Jack frowned, realizing that the  _soonest_  they might be able to take care of the Shadow People as a threat was the full moon. That wasn't for another two weeks. If Rowan recovered enough to realize the new arrangement, she was  _not_  going to be happy about being stuck there.

"Thank you," Calliope said. North simply nodded.

"Next, effective immediately, Erato and Polyhymnia, currently having no means to protect themselves if cornered, are  _also_  to remain at the pole until either a safer location can be found or the Shadow People are no longer a threat. Again, whichever comes first," said Urania.

"Are you serious, he's  _grounding_  me?" Erato said, taken aback.

Polyhymnia, having just recently rejoined the group after helping to get Rowan settled sighed, "If Apollo thinks it is best. I do not wish to intrude."

"You will be great company," North said.

"I'm  _how old_  and he's  _grounding me?"_  Erato groaned.

"Wow, it's really annoying when people treat you like a child when you're several centuries old, isn't it?" Cupid said.

"Shut it," Erato hissed.

"Apollo also strongly suggests that Terpsichore and Euterpe follow suit, or otherwise have their stardust gloves on at all times. The only reason he is not putting Calliope under these conditions is because her leadership position may require  _actually leaving_  any safe location. All other Muses are advised to find a safe place and lie low," Urania said.

The Muses mumbled amongst themselves, several of them seeming quite irritated when it came to these new orders.

"Tsar Lunar suggests that Nicholas keep the signal on, indefinitely, to assure that the Shadow People will stay away, as they do not go near the northern lights," Urania continued, speaking louder and casting her sisters a glance as though to tell them to  _quiet down_ ,  _she wasn't done yet._

"And if we need to use it to, you know  _signal everyone?"_  Bunny asked.

"Turn it off for five seconds, then turn it back on," Urania said. "Or use the moonbeams, they'll be back tomorrow. Tsar Lunar also requests that we designate some kind of safe word or code, so that in the event that the Shadow People impersonate one of us again, we can verify identity and avoid falling into a trap again."

"So if they don't say 'poodle' or something we know it's not  _really_  one of us," said Thalia.

"Exactly," Urania said.

"Let's not use 'poodle,' though," Euterpe said, making a face.

"Well the Shadow People would never think to use 'poodle,' as a safe word," Thalia shrugged.

"What about 'fluoride,'" Tooth suggested. "It doesn't exactly come up in most conversations."

"It's less silly, at least," Terpsichore said.

"'Fluoride' it is, then," said Bunny. "Provided no one  _leaks_  the information."

"Which brings me to the next point, Tsar Lunar and Apollo do not believe, nor did they observe, anything that suggests anyone in this alliance spoke directly to the Shadow People to exchange information," Urania said. "However, that doesn't mean someone else didn't."

"What do you mean?" Calliope asked.

"They think that perhaps one of us mentioned something to someone outside the alliance. That perhaps  _that_  person leaked the information. Someone could have even overheard something at the ball, as  _several_  members of the group were drunk and might not even remember saying anything," Urania said. The entire room grew tense at the suggestion. "Tsar Lunar and Apollo only ask that we all be careful who we trust at this time, and keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

"Is there anything else?" said North.

Urania shook her head. "No. We're done for the night."

Everyone immediately began to speak amongst themselves, Jack could overhear plans forming for the remainder of the night, Calliope asking Sandy if she'd said anything important while she was wasted at the ball, and questions about who could have leaked information. Erato and Cupid had stepped aside, speaking in whispers, both clearly on edge.

Relieved that none of the Guardians at least seemed to be paying him any mind, Jack shakily pulled himself to his feet again. Determined, and still using his staff as a stand-in cane, he hobbled across the platform, stumbling every two steps or so.

It occurred to him that he might actually be acting his age for once. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

Once he made it across the platform to the nearby hall, he was relieved that he cold at least steady himself against the wall as he went, the murmurs of the rest of the alliance dying down as he slowly but surely distanced himself from the others.

He thankfully hadn't needed to walk for long before he found a room with the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open a few more inches, he peered inside. It was a guest room, as he'd hoped, with the fireplace lively and Rowan tucked into the bed.

Jack pushed the door open enough for him to slip inside, closing it behind him once he had. Steadying himself with the wall again, he walked across the room to the armchair, setting his staff down across the arms. Bracing himself, Jack pushed the armchair, certain that had he been in his usual state of health, this wouldn't be nearly so difficult.

He inched the chair across the room, groaning slightly in frustration at how slowly the process was going. The entire chair refused to move at once, leaving him to push the left corner back, then the right. Left, then right. Left, then right. Eventually he got the chair where he wanted it, directly beside the head of the bed.

Jack moved the staff from the chair and propped it against the wall before settling himself down. He wasn't sure if the chair really  _was_  exceptionally comfortable, or if it just seemed that way because of how exhausted and sore he was.

He watched Rowan, still looking incredibly ill but at least no longer in tears. She was wearing a long-sleeved nightgown, with her clothes folded neatly atop the dresser. Jack couldn't help but wonder where on earth the nightgown had even come from, and think it odd that she was wearing it. He was so used to the ratty band t-shirts she wore to bed.

Jack would have liked to climb into bed beside her. He'd grown accustomed to it in the past few weeks, and after everything else that had happened all night, nothing else would ease his mind more.

But he was Jack Frost. He was freezing cold personified, and hypothermia had been all too real of a risk for her that night. He didn't want to cause her any more harm.

He reached forward to tuck hair away from her face, but stopped short, pulling his hand away. There was still dream sand twisting above her head, and he was sure he recognized his own silhouette among the shapes forming. He should be able to touch her now.

But what if he couldn't? He'd had countless people pass straight through him in the past few centuries, but none had stung quite as much as Rowan, and he wasn't sure he was willing to put himself through that again tonight.

It was irrational; he knew this. Sandy had made contact with her earlier. So he should be able to, as well. He should be able to touch her face, feel the regained warmth and know she was all right.

But he couldn't bring himself to try. He was too afraid that somehow it wouldn't work.

And even if it did, what if it was just temporary? What if she woke up and all the Muses' work was undone and he was  _still_  unable to touch her?

So Jack pulled his hand away, watching her with a frown as he leaned back against the plush chair. Closing his tired eyes, he sighed. "Goddamn it, Sawyer. None of this was supposed to happen."


	51. Cross Out The Eyes

_"Pitch was the obvious suspect, then he said it was probably_ Cupid _and Tsar Lunar and Apollo don't think it's either of them."_

_"So it must be me?"_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-One: Cross Out The Eyes**

* * *

Jack's head was unsteadily propped between the plush of the armchair and his hand, sliding to the side ever so slowly until there was no more armchair to keep it upright. His chin then slipped from his hand and he jolted upright, opening his eyes at once, startled.

The room was still the same. It was still dimly lit, the open curtains only letting in darkness. The bottom edge of the door allowed a strip of brighter light in from the rest of the pole. The fire was still burning strong.

Rowan was still sleeping, Sandy's dream sand still hard at work with her.

Squinting at the clock on the mantle, Jack found that at least two hours had passed since the last time he had woken up. It was the longest he'd managed to stay asleep yet, usually averaging about half an hour of sleep at a time if he was lucky.

He considered the small pouch of dream sand that Sandy had given each of them for Christmas, guaranteed to provide a dreamless sleep. Perhaps now would be a good time to make use of it. But his was all the way back in Pennsylvania, in his sad excuse for a cabin.

Jack rubbed his eyes before his gaze fell to Rowan again. She had remained in deep sleep ever since Sandy knocked her out, not even shifting in position since he'd entered the room. Jack frowned; she wasn't usually a restless sleeper but the fact that she hadn't even moved a little set him on edge.

The spirit braced himself against the chair, slowly rising to his feet. Gripping his staff tightly, ready to use it to stay balanced, Jack took a step forward. Deep breath, second step. His knees were steady, if sore. His staff stayed by his side, so far not needing to take its place as stand-in cane. His grip on it relaxed.

He counted steps, across the room first, then around the walls, fingertips grazing the wallpaper, ready to brace himself if necessary. It hurt to move, but not nearly as much as it had the previous night. He was simply grateful that movement didn't take as much effort and concentration now.

Jack didn't exactly feel rested, but it seemed that spending a few hours  _trying_  to relax in the armchair had actually helped. He cleared his dry throat, stopping his careful pacing near the bed where he'd started, peering at Rowan's face again.

He was beginning to wonder why he continued to check on her so frequently. He had been in that armchair by the bed for hours without so much of a twitch of her fingers to report. The only indications that the girl was still alive were the steady, almost calculated breaths that kept her chest rising and falling.

Jack reached toward the strand of hair that still lay across her face and stopped short again. The vivid image of his hand passing through her face barely had a chance to flash in his mind before he quickly pulled his hand away, pocketing it.

He eyed the armchair again before shaking his head. He couldn't keep sitting there, watching her, sleeping sporadically, and waiting for her to wake up and be the same Rowan Sawyer that he'd left in her apartment the previous day.

He wanted to be there when she woke up, but the waiting was putting him on edge, making him anxious. He just needed to step away for a short while and stop obsessing. At the rate she was going (alongside being a  _mortal_  recovering from everything she was), she should still be sleeping when he returned.

"Don't, uh, don't wake up or something while I'm gone," Jack mumbled to her sleeping form. After a beat, he said, "This is where you would say, 'Don't tell me what to do, Frost.' And we'd… call each other ridiculous, most likely."

As expected, the slumbering girl did not respond. Jack frowned and straightened his stance before walking to the door. "I'll be back soon," he said, his eyes on the girl until he closed the door behind him.

The rest of the pole was carrying on as though it were any other January. Yetis worked on prototypes based on ice sculptures that North had made. Where he found the time to make new prototypes for the new year and new batch of toys, Jack wasn't sure.

Some elves had been lurking nearby, no doubt peering under the door in curiosity. They scurried away, likely to pretend to be productive elsewhere now that Jack had emerged from the room.

He walked a few paces before trying to hover, pleased to see that he was steady in those attempts as well. He stopped short when he found Polyhymnia and Erato seated at the platform near the globe. Erato was flipping through a beaten up book, barely glancing at each page long enough to skim. Polyhymnia was humming softly to herself and working on some needlepoint, a small wooden kit full of various sewing supplies beside her.

"Hello, Jack, did you sleep well?" Polyhymnia said, glancing up from her work. Erato set the book aside, seemingly done pretending to be interested in its content.

"Not really," Jack said, his voice still hoarse as his feet touched the ground again.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is Rowan still asleep?" Polyhymnia asked.

"Yes," he said. Polyhymnia simply nodded and returned to her embroidery, humming softly again.

"North is in his workshop, if you're looking for him," Erato said, standing up and walking across the platform, fiddling with her gloves as she went.

"I figured. But, um, is Cupid still around by any chance?" Jack asked.

"He left and then he came back and then he left and came back again. Last I saw, he was blowing off some steam in the training room. If this is about what Pitch said—" Erato said, eyes growing narrow.

"It's not," said Jack, shaking his head. He stepped aside, starting toward the lift that would take him to the bottom floor of the pole. "Thanks."

"Well then what is it?" Erato asked, taking a few steps after him. Jack waved her question away and settled himself in the lift, watching as the floors of the pole passed him by until finally he could go no further down. He hadn't been to the training room much in the past, only barely remembering where it was now.

He stopped outside the door, staring at it and straining to hear several faint  _thuds_  from within, not unlike the sounds that had stirred him awake briefly when Cupid found him with the Shadow People. He raised his hand to knock on the door and stopped short.

Was he really about to do this? His pride was begging him not to. Turn now, go talk to North instead, no one will know any different.

Well, except Erato. Jack couldn't be sure she wouldn't ask Cupid what he had wanted. Awkward questions would surely follow if he didn't go through with this.

Jack swallowed and knocked on the door before pushing it open. Cupid was pulling arrows from a beaten up target on the far side of the room. Cupid only barely glanced Jack's way before returning his focus to his arrows, sliding them back in the quiver fixed at his hip.

Neither of them said a word as Jack closed the door behind him and waited for Cupid to walk back to his side of the room. It seemed to take forever for the other boy to arrive, the room being rather spacious. His footsteps echoed as though to call attention to their silence.

"Can I help you?" Cupid said, nocking an arrow and drawing it back. With a snap, the arrow was released and with a  _thud_  it hit the bull's eye.

"About last night," Jack said, watching as Cupid prepared another arrow, barely acknowledging that Jack was there at all. Another snap, another thud, another bull's eye.

"Yeah?" Cupid said, tensing slightly as he retrieved another arrow from the quiver.

"I, um, I never thanked you," Jack said, choosing to stare at the target on the other side of the room rather than Cupid now. "For saving my ass with the Shadow People and for helping me out with Rowan."

Snap. Thud. Bull's eye.

"So, yeah," Jack said. "Thank you. Rowan would—Rowan would be dead if you hadn't shown up. And I wouldn't be much better. I owe you."

"You're not here to interrogate?" Cupid said, brows raised and finally facing Jack, who returned the favor.

"Strangely enough, no," Jack said. "I'm not exactly your biggest fan, but I don't think you'd risk the Muses like that."

"I wouldn't," said Cupid. "And, uh, you're welcome."

The pair broke eye contact, shifting uncomfortably now. Jack had never been in a situation with Cupid that didn't involve excessive name-calling, attempting to do each other harm, or in the case of the previous night, dire circumstance.

"So did you  _really_  find me because of my…  _love_  signal?" Jack said, cringing at just how  _corny_  it sounded. Cupid laughed.

"You've got it bad, Frost," he said, drawing back another arrow. "She does, too."

"Still?" Jack couldn't help but ask. "Even after they messed with her head?"

Snap. Thud. Bull's eye. "I'm sure that was part of why she was so upset. First she falls in love with  _Jack Frost_  of all people—"

"Hey," Jack said, eyes narrowed.

"—then it turns out that none of it is real. None of the time you guys spent together, none of your dumb inside jokes you probably have, none of it. At least, as far as the Shadow People led her to believe," Cupid said.

"Our inside jokes aren't  _that_  dumb," was all Jack could mumble. They were  _ridiculous_ , thank you.

Snap. Thud. Bull's eye.

His need for Rowan to wake up and believe in the Guardians and magic again was growing by the minute. The top priority was, of course, that her believing meant that she would continue to be safe at the North Pole. Additionally, and perhaps selfishly, he needed to know that she believed that all of the time they'd spent together had actually happened. That their entire relationship wasn't something she'd made up.

He wanted to be able to talk to her and ease any doubts. It was hard to believe that a day ago, communicating with Rowan was a given.

"Sure they're not," Cupid smirked. "I'm sure you guys don't have any dumb nicknames for each other either."

_Little-Miss-Nice-List._  Jack could feel his cheeks warming, if slightly. "Not at all."

"Uh-huh," Cupid said, deadpan as he nocked another arrow. "Regardless, she still loves you so you don't have to worry about that going away."

"Thanks," Jack said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Did she wake up yet? I'm assuming not or you'd be there instead of here," said Cupid.

Snap. Thud. Bull's eye.

"No, not yet. She hasn't even moved outside breathing," Jack frowned.

"Maybe it's one of those 'a watched pot never boils' things," Cupid said. "Go make a blizzard or something."

"Speaking of our usual jobs, shouldn't you be out harassing hormonal teenagers?" Jack asked. Maybe he'd already done that and come back, Erato had mentioned him leaving and returning.

"They can be hormonal without me," Cupid said. "I shouldn't be shooting at  _people_  right now."

"Why's that, your aim's still fine," Jack said, watching as yet another arrow lodged itself within the bull's eye.

"I get a little sadistic with these sometimes," Cupid said, holding up one of the lead rejection arrows before nocking it. "You're not suspicious of me, and I do appreciate that, I just wish more people shared the notion."

"What do you mean?" Jack said.

"Bunny is still suspicious, I can tell. Aunt Melpomene gave me one of those 'I won't sell you out if you come talk to me' talks before she left with Pitch. And Tooth, I think I just made her uncomfortable because I dragged her into it when she gave me a cover story. So, she hasn't said more than two words to me," Cupid said. Snap. Thud. Bull's eye.

"Bunny's default is 'suspicious,'" Jack said with a shrug. "Melpomene's fishing for a tragedy, and Tooth should come around, I think."

"I just, I've known all of them for so long, the fact that this is even an issue—never mind. I didn't sell anyone out, hopefully they'll figure that out," Cupid said, shaking his head and walking across the room again to retrieve his arrows.

"Maybe Rowan will have more information when she wakes up about what happened. She might know something that'll clear you," Jack said, walking a few paces behind Cupid if only so he wouldn't have to shout after him.

"I hope so. I'm still curious to know why they didn't consume her the same way they consumed you, it would have killed her for sure if they went through her chest," Cupid said, beginning to collect his arrows once more.

"I just want to know why she left the barrier," Jack said, his mind racing with thoughts of her apartment and all the times he'd been there in the past. It was supposed to be  _safe_  there, so why had she left? As he considered the first time he'd broken in and flipped through the pages of her notebook he suddenly became determined. "You know, maybe I will leave for a while and make some blizzards."

"Try not to get in trouble again, there's still barely a moon and I'm not gonna go look for you again," said Cupid.

"Don't worry, I know you're gonna miss me  _terribly_ , so I won't be gone long," Jack said, turning his heel and heading for the door.

"How thoughtful," Cupid said with a roll of the eye, retrieving his last arrow from the bull's eye as the door to the room clicked shut.

* * *

The pleasant smell of something burning drew Rowan from sleep, though she couldn't find it in herself to open her eyes. Her head hadn't pounded this badly since one particularly weird weekend in the dorms freshman year. She shifted slightly, instead, keeping her eyes closed.

Maybe she would fall asleep again and she wouldn't have to deal with her headache for a little while longer. That was her plan until she heard someone mumbling something under their breath. She froze, eyes still closed and listening carefully.

They spoke loudly enough so that she knew someone was speaking, but not so loud that she could decipher any of what they were saying. Was it even in English? The voice seemed familiar, but trying to place it made her head throb even more.

What were they doing there? Were they a friend or foe? She remained still and with eyes closed just in case.

They stopped speaking. Rowan tensed as something slid beneath her pillow before leaving something behind and pulling away. Footsteps could then be heard, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing.

Rowan barely cracked her eyes open. When she didn't see any movement, she rubbed them briefly before opening them again, her vision blurring for a moment before  _almost_  correcting itself. Everything seemed to glow around the edges, and whenever she tried to shift her gaze, the world seemed to tilt and twirl. She closed her eyes again and opened them, finding that nothing had changed and deciding that the best thing to do was to try and keep her gaze steady. This room was familiar, but she felt uneasy in that it was not her apartment, as she had expected it to be.

_This is a safe place_.

The statement dashed through her mind, leaving more pain in its wake. Rowan gently rubbed the side of her head, closing her eyes again.

When she opened them once more, she tried to take in the sights, to assess her surroundings. There was nothing suspicious on this side of the room. An empty armchair. An armoire.

She rolled over, surprised at how slowly she was moving and how much it hurt to do so, to look at the other side of the room. On the bedside table was some sort of dish next to a water pitcher. There was a bundle of  _some_  kind of herbs placed on the dish and burning slowly. It was no doubt the source of the pleasant smell.

"Hmm…" Rowan mumbled, turning over again. Cautiously, she reached under her pillow, feeling only the soft bed sheet until her fingers grazed something rough, jagged. She gently grasped the objects, pulling them out. She blinked a handful of times, trying to focus on what they were.

Three crystals rested on her palm, leaving spots of color on her flesh from the light passing through. One was a pale pink, the next was a deep purple, with a few transparent areas, and the last was orange. She furrowed her brow, closing her fingers around the crystals.

What did any of this mean and what was it for? Who had left the crystals and burning herbs? Why was she here, and how was she so sure it was safe? Rowan's thoughts hadn't gone far without her head pounding in protest. "Later," she sighed, resting her head atop the pillow again. She slid her hand beneath it, fully intending to just return the crystals to their place, but fell asleep before she could release them from her grasp.

* * *

Arachne peered through the multi-lensed peephole of her front door upon hearing a knock. She smiled, flashing pointed teeth as she identified her visitor before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

"It's not like you to knock, Thalia," Arachne observed, stepping aside for the Muse to enter. Thalia kissed Arachne's cheek gently, briefly. "Usually you're just in the middle of my house all of a sudden."

"Oh, you know," Thalia said vaguely, eyes fixed on Arachne's half-finished designs as the redhead closed the door behind her. "Thought I'd, uh, try out the whole 'manners' thing."

"You're never one for tact," said Arachne. "Observation, not an—"

"Insult, I know," Thalia said. This was usually where Thalia grinned to assure that no offense was taken. Arachne didn't usually worry herself with offending others with her observations, but this Muse was a bit different.

Thalia didn't grin, however. In fact the ever-present smile didn't seem to be there at all. Thalia seemed to be doing everything in her power to look anywhere but directly into Arachne's many eyes.

"What's wrong?" Arachne asked. "Did something happen at the new moon, is everyone okay?"

"Ara, I need to ask you something," Thalia said, fiddling with the ruffles near her collar.

"What is it?" said Arachne.

"You haven't spoken to anyone who might be involved with the Shadow People, have you?" Thalia asked.

"I've spoken to a lot of beings recently, it's impossible to know the alliance of all of them," Arachne said, puzzled. She'd dealt with an incredible number of clients for the ball alone, and she rarely discriminated against whom she would provide her services to. For the most part she didn't care if one was a "good" spirit or a "bad" spirit as long as they were a paying spirit.

"Did you tell anyone anything?" Thalia asked.

"What do you mean? Like what? What happened?" Arachne said, taking a few steps so that she was directly in Thalia's line of vision now.

"There's a leak on our side, we don't know who it is, but somehow the Shadow People found out that Tooth has Tsar Lunar XI's sword. They used this information to imitate her and lure Jack into a trap last night. Cupid got him out of it, but they were already delayed getting back to Rowan," Thalia explained, speaking quickly as her eyes shifted ever so slightly. She never could seem to decide which pair of Arachne's eyes she was supposed to make contact with.

"Did they kill her? Do they have her powers now?" Arachne asked, eyes widening. This would, of course, make all the Muses their next targets.

"No, but they came close. They messed with her head, they made her stop believing in the Guardians. She thought we were all just hallucinations or something. We, the Muses, I mean, we tried to make her believe again last night and it looks like it worked but we don't know if it's permanent yet. If she doesn't believe the Guardians can't help her," Thalia said. "Ara, I just need to know that you didn't say anything. No one outside the alliance was supposed to know specifics like the sword, but we told you about it."

"You think I sold you out?" Arachne said, taking a step away. "I didn't weave that stardust for the fun of it, Thalia, I did it to help all of you. What on earth would I have to gain from giving that information away?"

"I don't know, okay? I just need to make sure!" Thalia said. "Pitch was the obvious suspect, then he said it was probably  _Cupid_  and Tsar Lunar and Apollo don't think it's either of them."

"So it must be me?" Arachne said, crossing her three sets of arms before her.

"I didn't say that," Thalia said. "Apollo and Tsar Lunar said that someone might have overheard at the ball, or that one of us might have told someone that passed the information along and I just wanted to get here and talk to you first before Calliope or someone has to come and interrogate you or something."

"Do you think I did it?" Arachne asked. "Just tell me that."

"No, I don't. But I'm afraid of everyone turning on each other because I can tell that even though Calliope was trying to help Cupid clear his name she was suspicious of him. And I was starting to wonder who we could trust if we couldn't trust Cupid, and I just… I just need to  _know_  it wasn't you, okay?" said Thalia. "Please, just tell me it wasn't you."

"It wasn't me. And for what it's worth, I don't think it was Cupid either," Arachne said. "We both care about all of you too much."

"I trust you," Thalia said with a heavy sigh. "I just… I had to hear you say it, I don't know."

Arachne watched the blond curiously. She never knew Thalia to be this suspicious or get this worked up. Her gray eyes were filled with little else but fear and despite Arachne's irritation at being accused, her expression softened, and she set a gentle hand to the Muse's shoulder. "Did me saying it ease your mind at all?"

"A little. This is just getting scary, is all. I mean, before, Jack was just taking care of it and it was sort of… out of sight, out of mind. I never thought Rowan would  _actually_  be in any danger. I figured we'd take care of it before they had a chance to do any damage and now here we are," Thalia said with a frown, eye contact faltering yet again. "And if you're not the leak and Cupid's not the leak… that means it's someone else in the alliance, and I just hope it was by accident at the ball or something because I don't know, Arachne, I don't know what to  _do_  at that point if one of them wants us dead."

"Even Melpomene wouldn't wish death on the rest of you. Until you are given reason to believe otherwise, trust your sisters and the Guardians, I think," Arachne said, pulling Thalia into her arms.

Thalia leaned her head against Arachne's with a heavy sigh. "I just wish there was a single part of this that was funny."

* * *

When Rowan opened her eyes again, she was disappointed to find that her vision hadn't improved much, the world only spinning a bit less when she dared shift her gaze. Everything still appeared hazy as she released her grip on the crystals beneath her pillow and rubbed at the side of her head again.

She wasn't sure which was worse, the constant headache or the soreness present in her body whenever she tried to move. Arms trembling, she managed to push herself upright, only for the world to violently spin, which led her to quickly lie back again, closing her eyes and groaning.

She tried again, slower this time, before pushing the thick blankets off of her. There was something strange about her movements, something strange about this room. She felt as though she were moving through water, her limbs heavy and sluggish. The sound of the fireplace was muffled, as though she had cotton stuffed in her ears. Was that why she couldn't properly hear whoever was here earlier?

There was little that made sense. Her presence in this room, the crystals beneath her pillow, the herbs someone had burned. But while nothing made sense, she was in a state where it was easy to accept, like strange happenings in a dream. Perhaps she was dreaming, or had been slipped some form of drug.

That didn't matter now, however, not as much as her bladder. She'd been in a room like this before, she knew that, and the door on the other side of the room should be a bathroom. She set her feet to the cold floor and stood upright, loosing her balance almost immediately. She grabbed for the bed to steady herself.

Glancing down, she found that the nightgown she wore was much too long for her. This wasn't her nightgown. Whose was it? She gathered fistfuls of fabric, lifting the hem of the gown from the floor before taking a wobbly step forward. The world seemed to shift with every step she took and Rowan closed her eyes.

Holding the hem of the nightgown with one hand to avoid tripping, she reached the other hand forward to avoid walking straight into a wall as she walked again, eyes still shut, knees shaking and buckling.

She reached the door and opened her eyes, pushing it open and slipping inside. She locked it, vaguely wondering if there was anyone around to worry about being walked in on as she stumbled to the toilet to take care of what she had come here for.

In the next few minutes she found herself struggling with the faucet of the sink, proving to be more difficult than expected to turn. Her hands kept shaking and slipping from the knobs. The soap smelled strongly of peppermint and only aggravated her headache.

It was only after she'd rinsed the soap away that she glanced up at the mirror and jumped in surprise, taking a step back and beginning to fall. She grabbed for the counter to steady herself and closed her eyes tightly before daring to focus on the mirror again.

Bloodshot seemed an understatement when regarding these dark eyes, surrounded by dark circles and puffy from tears. Leaning closer, she found that her pupils were dilating and contracting at a steady pace.

Her cheeks were gaunt and her lips were pale and chapped. Cupping her hands together under the still-running water, Rowan splashed water on her face and rinsed out her irritated eyes. After taking great effort to shut the water off, she glanced back at her reflection, finding that all that had changed was that she now had wet strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

Stumbling over the nightgown, Rowan hastily left the bathroom. She gathered the skirt together again before walking clumsily back to the bed, practically collapsing upon it. The world continued to sway the more she moved and she tried not to think of the sickly face she'd just seen in the mirror. She crawled closer to the side of the bed with the water pitcher and attempted to lift it to pour herself a glass.

When she could not find the strength to lift the pitcher, she set the glass nearby and tried to tilt it over instead. It worked, perhaps too well, as the glass overflowed and spilled on the table. With a trembling hand, she closed her eyes and lifted the glass to her lips.

She tried only to focus on the water but couldn't help but think back to the eerie way her pupils were behaving. She could feel them move beneath her eyelids, still dilating and contracting, and dilating and contracting.

Rowan set the empty glass back on the bedside table before climbing back beneath the covers, feeling under the pillow for the crystals again. Gripping them seemed to help, if slightly.

What was going on? Had she taken something? She remembered waking up in this room once before, but what had she done before that? She closed her eyes again, trying to remember.

There were Shadow People at the apartment; that sounded right. She ran away from the apartment and was pursued by more Shadow People. She could remember being frustrated that she'd forgotten her car keys, she recalled almost being hit by a car when running through an intersection.

Flickering lights at the college. Flickering streetlights.

Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled what came next. A growing emptiness, doubts and hopelessness. Her world collapsing around her, leaving her with nothing to cling onto and call real. Everything had just been part of a story. She'd made everything up.

But there had been Shadow People, and she hadn't made them up. Somehow she knew that everything that she had believed to be real, actually was, but she wasn't sure how she had come to this conclusion. It made more sense that she had simply been hallucinating.

It was heartbreaking, to consider that her entire life might have just been a strange series of hallucinations, with recent weeks simply becoming stranger and stranger still. She couldn't be sure  _any_  being she'd met, legendary or otherwise, had been real.

But she  _knew_  it had all happened, that she hadn't been hallucinating. She had no reason, no proof, but she knew. It made her uneasy.

Could she trust her own mind anymore? It felt as though she had been brainwashed. She believed one thing to be true when logical thought was telling her otherwise.

Nothing made any sense, not one thing. She didn't know what to believe anymore: logic or the almost instinctual urge that told her everything  _was_  real.

She still wasn't sure how she had come to this room, why she was wearing this nightgown. Her head continued to throb and her limbs continued to ache. She shifted, and the necklace she wore slid across her chest. She let go of the crystal, carefully grabbing for the charm.

Cracking open her eyes, she lifted the charm so that she could properly see it (well, as properly as she could see  _anything_  with her eyes in such a state). The snowflake pendant with its blue topaz and stardust.

It was real. It was solid. She could touch it, see it. It was familiar.

It made sense.

Sighing, Rowan kept her fingers wrapped around the charm and closed her eyes, drifting back to sleep as she wondered where the boy that had given it to her was.

* * *

Jack slid the window open, finding that it was still unlocked. It wasn't as though anyone had been by to lock it, he supposed, as he slid inside. The apartment was quiet; it was still.

It felt strange to be here without Rowan letting him in. Entering without permission meant breaking a promise he'd made to her at the beginning of all this. Hopefully she'd forgive this incident if he could even talk to her to mention it.

There was a canvas bag near the futon. Picking it up, Jack peered inside it, finding a very small sketchbook and a small pencil case. It would work well enough, he supposed, propping his staff against the wall and walking toward the dresser.

He began shuffling through the drawers, grabbing clothing he'd remembered her wearing before and stuffing it into the bag. He didn't know if any of it went together or not, but at least she would have options besides the clothes she'd been wearing when she arrived at the pole and that nightgown.

He closed each drawer as he finished with it, stepping away to approach the table where he found the beaten up composition notebook. As he picked it up, a picture fell from between the pages. He paused, setting the book back down as he kneeled to grab the photograph, which had landed face down on the floor.

It was one of the Polaroids they'd taken the previous week before their date when Rowan had turned the camera around to take one of both of them. They were smiling in the picture, and why wouldn't they be? The disaster of a new moon hadn't happened yet.

Jack wondered if Rowan would even be able to see his image in this photo anymore, wincing at the thought as he stood upright again. Had it really only been a week? A week since they watched the northern lights and said they were in love out loud?

She had said it first, clearly apprehensive. He'd expected this statement to terrify him. After all, the last time someone had declared romantic love toward him, well… there was a reason he didn't talk about Melpomene much, after all.

But Rowan said it and he wasn't afraid. His heart had raced and the only appropriate response was to return the sentiment and kiss her. Everything about that night had gone so well, had felt so right.

Was it really just a week ago?

Jack tucked the photo back between the pages of the notebook, careful not to dwell on the scribbles and notes inside as he did. He then set the notebook and a pen from the table in the bag.

He slipped inside her bathroom next, opening the medicine cabinet and taking only a few things, wondering if it was a certain fairy's influence that made him remember the toothpaste and the extra tooth brush that had come with a two-pack.

Mainly, he had been looking for any sort of drug that might help if her head and body ached as much as his. Something told Jack that North treated everything the way he'd treated the cut on Jack's forehead and, well, vodka wouldn't make a headache any better.

Finding a bottle of ibuprofen, he shook it slightly, finding it mostly full before dropping it in the bag as well. He closed the medicine cabinet and tied the handles of the bag together, returning to the window and grabbing his staff from the wall. He glanced back at the apartment: the creepy dolls meticulously placed on their shelves, the drawings pinned to the walls, the hastily made bed.

He was going to miss stopping by every night. Hopefully they'd be back to their old routine, minus the threat of Shadow People, soon enough.

"All right, Wind," Jack said, climbing outside the window and carefully sliding it closed again. "Let's go back to the pole."


	52. Talking Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii everyone. So, yeah, this chapter is kinda late. Pretty late. I wound up having to re-write a bunch of it and there were a good few days when I sat to work on it and nothing happened. Plus I wasted a night researching for an art job that fell through, so that made me feel pretty dumb. Hoping the next chapter works out better! Happy Independence Day tomorrow for you Americans, and happy July for the rest of you.

_Eye contact with him made the world spin._

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Two: Talking Dreams**

* * *

There weren't a lot of people that were particularly happy about Rowan's new living arrangement. In fact, the only reason  _Rowan_  wasn't more upset about it was because all the details were currently unknown to the slumbering girl, more confused than anything whenever she woke up.

But there was at least one person who saw this as an excellent opportunity. As long as Rowan was safely secured at the North Pole, far from Shadow People who dared not approach North or his aurora borealis signal, the Sandman did not have to provide a protective barrier around the girl.

Pitch Black could not cross a dream sand barrier undetected, but he could easily enter the North Pole without anyone's knowledge. He'd done so in the past, after all. His last opportunity to take advantage of this had been during the ball, when the mortal had wandered far enough away from the Guardians to fall victim to his discouraging words. But as far as nightmares went? Well, it had been much too long since he had presented the girl with one of those.

Nightmares about drowning were not exactly his most creative ventures but they had proven rather effective when it came to her. No visuals were required; everything should be black. There should be uncertainty over which way was up and which way was down, to assure the fear that one may, in fact, be swimming in the completely wrong direction, further and further away from the surface. Panicking, the dreamer holds their breath and panics more.

They awake, gasping for air and heart ready to crash from their chest.

Simple, really.

He scanned the room to assure that it was empty except for the girl. When he was certain he would not be caught, Pitch gracefully emerged from the shadows beneath the bed. He stood tall, with life shining behind his eyes and an unsettling grin set on his face.

"I said I wouldn't interfere with the dreams of children, but you're not a child, are you?" Pitch chuckled, reaching toward the twirling dream sand above her head. He stopped short however, suddenly overcome with the need to cough.

He pulled his hand back, just short of touching the sand and set it to his throat in confusion as he continued to cough and choke. Covering his mouth, he tried to muffle the sound and stay quiet; the last thing he needed was for her to wake up and find him taking advantage of the loopholes in his agreement.

But why was he choking all of a sudden? His eyes darted around the room. Was there someone doing this to him? Usually the Guardians took a more direct route of attacking him with their weapon of choice, not so much magical asphyxiation.

The irony that he was now struggling to breathe while attempting to give a young woman a nightmare about drowning was not lost on him.

His gaze fell to the bundle of slowly burning herbs on the dish atop the bedside table and he backed away, cringing at the sight.  _"Sage,"_  he coughed. The smell had filled the room but he had barely taken note of it, too focused on his task.

The sage, and whatever else was bundled with it, had no doubt been used to remove any influence of the Shadow People from the room. But its purpose was to cleanse the room of negative spirits in general.

As it turned out, Pitch qualified.

He glanced back at the girl, at the dream sand above her head. All he needed was a  _second_  to corrupt it. Her fear had been doing him a world of good since the new moon, and one nightmare in this state would leave him feeling lively for at least a week.

Imagine what he might be able to accomplish in a week.

But when he attempted to reach for the dream sand again, to indulge in a last ditch effort to give her this nightmare despite his struggle with the sage, the doorknob began to turn.

Pitch swore, immediately disappearing into the shadows and out of sight as Jack entered the room, oblivious to the struggling Boogeyman that had just departed. The dream sand remained untouched.

Traveling through the shadows, Pitch re-emerged in his lair, breathing easier now and still swearing softy.

"What happened?" Melpomene asked, seated on his throne and barely glancing his way from the globe. Her faint moonbeam, as well as Pitch's, lurked behind the chair, close to Melpomene, but not  _too_  close.

"Someone  _smudged_  the room," Pitch said as though the statement left a bitter taste in his mouth. He approached the chair and stood beside it, eying the globe as he went.

"Smudged it?" Confusion crossed Melpomene's features for no more than a moment.  _"Oh_ , that ritual with the sage. Was it  _that_  bad?" He nodded.

"I was going to turn her dream into a nightmare anyway but Frost, as always, ruins my plans by showing up at the worst moment," Pitch scowled.

"Of course," Melpomene sighed. "I won't be able to do anything either, I imagine, not until it wears off a bit."

"All the wasted opportunity. Just how long as she been asleep?"

"They think she woke up a few times, but it's always when no one's around to assess the damage. But the new moon was  _two nights_  ago, so," Melpomene said.

"Two days—" Pitch started.

"One and a half, more like," Melpomene shrugged.

"One and a half days, then, of sleeping and dreaming and not a single nightmare," Pitch said, shaking his head. "What a waste."

"I wonder who smudged the room? I want to say Poly, but…" Melpomene said, her expression thoughtful as she stood from her seat.

"I thought it was the rabbit, what with his extensive garden," said Pitch.

"Oh, probably," Melpomene sighed. "Whoever it was, with any luck they won't keep up with it  _or_ find out the effect it has on you."

"Just as long as the Mortal Muse stays as terrified as she is now, this will only be a minor setback."

* * *

Rowan had hoped that if she got enough sleep her headache would improve. As she released her grip on her necklace and grabbed the side of her head, she found that this was not the case. She whined softly, eyes closed tight.

Her stomach growled. When was the last time she had eaten something? That couldn't be helping her headache either, she realized. She had barely been keeping hydrated. The last time she had water was the last time she had woken up. Still alone, still dizzy, she had poured another clumsy glass before passing out again, still clutching her necklace.

Before that, she had woken to find that someone had left a plate of cookies near the water pitcher and burning herbs. It had confused her more than anything. Why cookies? Who had left them?

_North, probably. He's Santa Claus after all,_  was the answer her confused mind had provided. She hadn't questioned it much further than that, as they had looked wonderful. Some were lovingly iced, others with chocolate centers and golden brown edges.

She'd had every intention of eating some, but her stomach had turned the moment she reached her trembling hand toward the tray. A stumbling trip to the bathroom ended in vomiting up something like tar.

The bathroom counter had been slightly different that time, however. The extra toothbrush in the twin pack she had purchased had somehow appeared, alongside her half-empty tube of toothpaste. She had spent little time worrying about how they had gotten there, instead taking advantage and brushing away the taste left behind by that black, inky substance.

When she'd collapsed back into bed, she had barely heard the door open again before passing out once more.

How long ago was that now? The clock on the mantle had served as a poor reference of time, as it was far enough away to be difficult to see with her pupils still expanding and contracting strangely. All she knew was that the room was always dim, and the outside was always dark when she woke up. Every single time.

Rowan supposed it didn't really matter how long it had been since the last time she woke up or the time she had woken up before that. She needed to eat something and stop sleeping at some point either way.

She cracked her eyes open again and was immediately taken by surprise. Each time before, she had woken to an empty room, but now it seemed this was not the case. Someone was occupying the armchair beside the bed.

Jack was sleeping, his head propped on one hand, the other dangling off the arm of the chair closest to her. Even with the eerie glow everything had thanks to whatever was wrong with her vision, seeing him was a comfort.

And yet, it still didn't make sense. She saw him and immediately thought,  _Jack Frost is real. The Guardians are real._  The thoughts appeared as though they were natural reflexes, but she had never gone out of her way to remind herself of such things when seeing Jack before.

That was all beside the point that Jack Frost being real, and her believing as much, didn't make any sense. Science could explain cold weather and frost patterns on windows. A boy with a staff didn't dictate when snow days would occur or whether or not the streets were coated in ice.

And yet, the dark part of her mind that insisted this was growing quiet. She  _knew_  he was real. When she had been convinced that he wasn't, it had destroyed her. She needed magic to be real. She needed  _him_  to be real.

But how did she  _know?_  Was seeing really believing? She felt suspicious of the thoughts insisting that he was real. They didn't feel like they were entirely her own.

It felt like a dream.

Her eyes widened at the thought.  _Yes._  A dream, a crazy, elaborate dream. That  _had_  to be it. Maybe she was starting to question everything because she was getting ready to wake up.

Everything was real. The workshop in the North Pole, the man that ran it. The man in the moon, the man with the chariot that tended to the sun. The boy with the magic staff, the fairy that collected teeth, the women that inspired the great creative minds of the world: they were all real.

They were all real, that is, provided that this was all a dream.

That was why she believed in all of it despite having every reason not to. She was trapped in some waking dream that had been going on much too long.

For a brief moment, she was relieved. For a brief moment her shoulders relaxed, and she breathed easy. She had her answer, a perfectly logical answer that explained absolutely everything. But the moment her eyes fell back to the sleeping boy in the armchair, she tensed again, heart racing.

If it  _were_  a dream, she'd have to wake up at some point. If magic and Jack Frost only existed  _because_  this was a dream, it meant he would not be there when she stopped dreaming.

Her answer suddenly wasn't so comforting.

She hated being confused. She hated not being able to trust her own thoughts. But if the alternative was "waking up" to clarity and concrete knowledge of what was and was not real in a world where Jack Frost was just a myth…

The thought was terrifying. But it was all that made sense. It was the only way any of this could be real.

When she stopped dreaming, it wouldn't be. It would all be gone, including Jack. She couldn't dream forever.

Blinking back tears, Rowan reached a trembling hand forward, toward Jack's hand closest to her, still resting on the arm of the chair. She set her hand atop his, the feeling of his cold skin familiar. All she wanted was to touch him, to feel that he was real, even if it was only in a dream.

She still loved him, after all. That didn't just go away.

Jack stirred awake at her touch, looking puzzled for a moment before his eyes fell to her hand resting atop his. Sitting up straight, the boy seemed suddenly alert, eyes wide as he glanced her way. He swallowed, nervous.

Eye contact with him made the world spin. She quickly shut her eyes again, groaning as her head pulsed with sharp pain. Cold fingers brushed hair from her face.

"Rowan?" Jack said. His voice was different, a bit hoarse. She opened her eyes again. He had leaned over to get a closer look at her. He was speaking to her, touching her, leaving her to believe that he was entirely real… only to remember,  _this is a dream_.

"Can you hear me?" he asked, adjusting his grip on her hand.

"Yes," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Can you see me?" he asked, concern clear on his face. Closer now, he became easier to examine. There was a cut on his forehead that looked fairly deep, mended with butterfly bandages. He looked utterly exhausted, with dark circles beneath his eyes.

What had happened to him?

"Yes," she mumbled. What was she supposed to do? What did you do when you saw your obviously hurt boyfriend after becoming aware that he was part of a waking dream? The only thing she could seem to do was lie there, tears threatening to spill and blurring her already challenged vision.

"Rowan," he said, moving to kneel beside the bed now, at eye level with her. "Hey, it's going to be all right, okay? Does anything hurt?"

What a question that was. It still hurt to move and her head was still pounding, which only seemed to get worse whenever she met his gaze. That was all not counting the emotional hurt she was going through, the cause for the tears.

"Just my head… and my body…" she said, attempting to speak at a normal volume, only to find that her voice wasn't in much better shape than his.

"Do you remember what happened? With the Shadow People and everything?" Jack asked, still eying her as though she were going to break if he weren't careful.

"Yeah, but… everything's kind of a blur after the boy with the wings showed up," Rowan said, carefully and unsteadily pulling herself into a seated position, still grasping his hand. Jack moved to take a seat beside her. Trying to think back to that night she remembered being certain she was going to die.

Was she still dying? What if she died before she woke up?

"That was Cupid," Jack said pulling her from that train of thought and back to the winged boy she remembered. It made sense within the context of the dream at least. Cupid had shown up before, after all, when this illusion had taken her to the ball where he had been present.

But the fact that the fantastic events in this dream made sense did not change the fact that is was a dream. She wiped at her eyes, hoping to dry them before the tears had a chance to spill.

"He had to carry you back here because I could barely fly  _myself_  at that point and then we found out that the Shadow People got you to stop believing so I wouldn't have been able to carry you out of there anyway," Jack continued, squeezing her hand tighter with a small smile. "But it looks like you believe again. The Muses weren't sure it would be permanent."

Rowan wasn't sure what the Muses had to do with this, but that small smile that pulled at his lips crushed her heart, knowing full well that she didn't believe the way he wanted her to. She only believed because this was a dream.

"I don't want to talk about Shadow People or the Muses or Cupid or any of that," she said, stopping to brace herself and breathe deep before continuing. "I just want to sit here and—and know you're real and just be here with you before I—"

"Hey! Hey, I'm not going anywhere, it's okay," Jack said, moving a bit closer to her as she let out a few sobs.

"Until I wake up," Rowan said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You're here until I wake up," she said. He reached forward to wipe tears from her eyes, but pulled his hand away when they frosted over instead.

"What do you  _mean?"_  he said again. "You  _are_  awake!"

"It's the only thing that makes any sense," Rowan said, forcing herself to keep eye contact, despite the ache in her head that followed. "It's the only way all of this can be real. I'm dreaming."

_"What?"_ Jack's face fell and he shook his head. "You're awake, Rowan! This isn't a dream."

"I think it is," she said, using every bit of willpower she had not to completely go into hysterics. "I think I must have been dreaming this whole time. My thoughts don't feel like my own but I'm accepting them anyway. Nothing makes sense, but I know it's true. The only way to explain that, is that I've been brainwashed or that I'm dreaming."

"The Muses tried to get you to believe again after the Shadow people convinced you not to. That must be what that is, that's why you feel brainwashed, your thoughts have been in the middle of a… messed up magical tug-of-war between believing and not believing," Jack said. He was speaking quickly, fearfully, as he cradled her hand in both of his. "This isn't a dream. Rowan, please, believe me."

Rowan remembered becoming convinced that none of the fantastic beings she'd met were real. She remembered waking up knowing full well that they were. It made sense that magical interference in the form of the Muses might have interfered between those two events. It made sense that it might feel the way her thoughts felt now if they were to interfere.

But it still only made sense assuming everything was a dream. But even in a dream, she hated thinking that her mind had become a plaything. Something to re-program and  _re-_ re-program based on what was most beneficial to whichever magical being at the time.

Ever since this fantastic dream had begun, it had been clear that Rowan was not a player in this game, but the object.

"Rowan?" Jack said again. It seemed she'd stopped to consider what the Muses had done for longer than she thought.

Did it really matter what they'd done? When she stopped dreaming they'd be gone.

"I want to believe this isn't a dream. I want to know that if I wake up you'll be here. I want to know that—know that everything that happened over the past few weeks  _really happened_  and that you won't just vanish when I eventually come to, but…" Rowan said, tears rolling down her face. "But this  _has_  to be a dream. And more than anything I wish it wasn't."

"It isn't!" Jack said. "This is reality. I'm here, and you're here, and this is all  _real,_  okay? Please. Please, Rowan, I love you, don't—don't convince yourself that I don't exist."

Her heart raced, much the same way it had raced the first time he had told her that he loved her. But there was no joy this time, no excitement. Just fear of disappointing him, fear of losing him.

"I love you too, I really do," she said, brushing away tears from her cheeks. "You're… you're everything I always dreamed of."

"I'm not a dream!"

"And how can I be sure of that?" she asked. "Just because I want you to exist outside this reality I've created doesn't mean you will. I  _need_  you to be real but that doesn't mean that you are."

The moment those last few words were uttered, his hands seemed to slip straight through hers, like a ghost. She jumped in surprise at the sight. In panic, he grabbed for her shoulders, keeping a firm grasp on them once it was clear he could.

"Stop talking yourself out of believing, stop!" he said desperately. There was clear sadness, desperation in his eyes, which only provoked more tears to spill from hers. "Tell me what I have to do, okay? Just tell me what I have to do to convince you that this isn't a dream."

"I don't… I don't know," Rowan said weakly. How could you tell if you were dreaming or not? "I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry."

"Your love for me is real, isn't it? Why is it so hard to believe that I am, too?" Jack said.

"People fall in love with fictional characters all the time, Jack," Rowan said.

"How often are the feelings returned?" he asked.

"Obviously you don't read fan fiction," said Rowan, shaking her head. "No one else… my parents, my classmates,  _no one else_  can see you. The photos are staged—"

"Yeah, by  _Thalia!_  With magic—"

"Only other mythical beings ever acknowledge you—"

"Jamie saw me—!"

"Jamie and I  _both_  have overactive imaginations—"

Rowan jumped again as Jack's hands slipped through her shoulders. He pulled his hands away before cautiously setting them back where they had been before, making contact with her again. Was he blinking back tears?

"Listen to me, Rowan, each of those kids in Burgess can see me, how do you explain that? Do you really think that Jamie would have gotten all of them to go along with pretending they could see one of his imaginary friends? For this long?" he said, speaking quickly as though he were going to run out of time.

"No," she said. He was blowing holes in her theories. He was right; the photos were staged with  _magic_. And the kids? Children would never keep up a game like that for this long. "But they would if it was a dream."

"But if it's not a dream, it means that I have to be real, doesn't it? The kids couldn't see me if you were hallucinating me or something. If this is not a dream, that means that all of this  _has_  to be real and you can stop trying to rationalize it. Right?" Jack said.

Rowan bit her lip and hesitated. If it wasn't a dream, and it wasn't a series of hallucinations, the only option left was that it was real. "Yes," she said finally. "But I would have to be sure this is  _absolutely_  not a dream. How would I do that?"

Jack glanced away briefly in thought. She could tell he was scrambling before snapping his attention back to her. "Fingers," he said at once.

"What?"

"You don't have the right amount of fingers in dreams," Jack said. Rowan wasn't sure she'd ever paid much attention to her fingers in dreams. She wanted to take his word for it, but couldn't help feeling skeptical.

The girl glanced down at her hands, spreading her fingers and straining a bit in the hopes that the odd, haloing effect that had taken over her vision would subside a little. She counted each of them carefully. She met his eyes, "Ten."

"See, so you're awake," Jack said. Rowan sighed glancing back down at her hands, still with ten digits and entirely unconvincing. "Not enough?"

She shook her head, wiping her eyes again. As she lowered her hand, she stopped short, pulling the nightgown sleeve back slightly. There was a dream she'd had about Jack that was absolutely, without a doubt, a dream. It was the dream where he had been mortal, when they had wandered off to that small pond in Burgess. At the start of the dream, she'd taken note that her tattoo was missing.

Two stars, the one on the right slightly larger, were currently present and accounted for on her left wrist when she pulled back her sleeve. Did that count? Her heart raced as she considered this.

Jack had not noticed her examining her wrist, having grabbed a canvas bag from beside the bag and begun to sort through it. Had the bag been there before? Or had the dream (if this was one) provided it because it was necessary?

He pulled out her notebook and her eyes lit up at the sight. "I got your notebook from your apartment. I'm sorry I had to go in there without getting your permission, but you were kind of unconscious."

"That's fine. You didn't read it, did you?" she asked, as though  _that_  were the most important issue at this moment.

"Of course not," he said, offering the book to her. She took it, savoring the feeling of it being back in her hands. "But you're going to, right now."

"How will that help me prove this isn't a dream? If this is all a dream, what I wrote in here would have been written while I was dreaming—" she started.

"You know how sometimes the alarm on your cell phone goes off in the morning and you complain about how the words on the screen aren't in English when you try to set it to snooze?" Jack said.

"Right, because—… because I'm not really awake yet," Rowan said. It had happened several times, even before she'd met Jack. It was usually a pretty decent indication that she was not anywhere near awake enough to deal with the real world because she was  _still dreaming_.

"You can't read in dreams. The words get jumbled, they change, they don't make any sense," Jack said, gesturing to the notebook. "So if you can read what's in there, that means this is  _not_  a dream, right?"

"Right," Rowan said, fingering the notebook and not quite focusing on it yet. It also meant that the times she'd read it in the past, when she'd referenced it for notes on her story while telling Jack or Jamie the next part, or when she'd tried to sort out her thoughts about loving Jack, had all actually happened. She'd been awake for all of it.

She glanced at the tattoo on her wrist again, still completely visible.

Her stomach turned. It had all been real hadn't it? But what about right here and right now? With her jumbled thoughts and constant confusion? She still didn't understand why she was at the North Pole or why she was wearing this nightgown or where the crystals or the burning herbs had come from. Was  _this_  a dream?

"If you can read what's in there, I'm real. All of this is real," said Jack.

And if she couldn't, this was all more complicated than she had initially thought. Rowan wiped at her eyes again and nodded slowly. Nervously, she opened the book to a random page and waited for her vision to adjust enough for her to make out what was written there.

_If Jack were here, he'd say I'm over-thinking it. But he wouldn't be surprised. I worry. I over-think. It's just the way I am._

She briefly glanced back up at him before glancing back down at the page.

_If Jack were here, he'd say I'm over-thinking it. But he wouldn't be surprised. I worry. I over-think. It's just the way I am._

The words read exactly the same. The letters were all in the correct order; it was English as she recognized it and completely comprehensible. She closed the book and set it aside, unsure how to take this.

This was it. This proved that she was not currently dreaming, and past instances with the book involving Jack proved that she  _hadn't_  been dreaming then. It completely eliminated her idea that she was in a waking dream.

Jamie's friends seeing Jack proved that he wasn't a story she'd taken too far, that she hadn't been hallucinating. They eliminated her  _"I'm clearly a delusional storyteller that got too caught up in a story,"_  method of thinking that had started all this confusion in the first place.

The only option left was that Jack Frost  _was_  completely, one hundred percent real.

But as she considered the kids in Burgess being proof that she hadn't imagined him, she remembered the whole reason she had begun to think that way in the first place. If Jack Frost and all her memories with him were real, it meant that the Shadow People were real as well. Every terrible thing involving them had, indeed, happened.

If it was true that the Shadow People had compelled her to stop believing, it was true that the Muses had compelled her to believe again. It meant that it was their combined effort that left her thoughts spinning and confused every time she woke up in this room. It meant that her mind truly  _had_  become something of a mythological plaything and she truly could not trust that the thoughts she had were her own. She  _had_  in a sense been brainwashed.

It all hit her at once, the relief and joy that came with confirmation of Jack's existence outside her dreams, and the grief and panic at everything else. It was  _all_  real, and all Rowan could do in response was sob, both overjoyed and completely terrified at the notion.

"Rowan?" Jack said hesitantly, setting a cautious hand to her shoulder again. She realized she hadn't told him if she could read the notebook or not, instead setting it aside and finally breaking into the hysterical sobs that had been threatening to escape the entire conversation. That couldn't have come across as a good sign for him.

"I'm awake. You're real," she managed to say between sobs before closing the distance between them with a trembling, clumsy kiss. He took no more than a second to respond, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. Her tears froze again the closer she came to him, but re-melted due to her own body heat soon enough.

"I'm sorry," she said when they broke away. "I just… nothing's made any sense. I'm sorry I doubted. I'm sorry I ever stopped believing. I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't want to."

He kissed her again, seeming thrilled that he could. "It isn't your fault, the Shadow People manipulated you.  _I'm_  sorry about that. I'm so sorry, Rowan, I should have been there," he said, still holding her close to him. He loosened his grip the next moment, however, as soon as her breath fogged before her. "None of this was supposed to happen."

Rowan thought back to the night of the new moon, unable to silence her sobs as she did. She'd been able to mostly avoid it the last few times she'd woken up, too scatter-brained, confused and exhausted to dwell on it much. But as she did now, she remembered the worry, the terror, the dread and the emptiness. It all came rushing back, demanding more tears from the girl. Gently pushing strands of hair from the gash on his forehead, she choked between sobs, "What  _did_  happen? Where were you and why was Cupid there?"

"I was in France. They mimicked Tooth's voice, calling out for help. I was suspicious because I've been pulled in by this trick before but I was worried about what might happen if I didn't check it out and it  _was_  her. It wasn't. I flew too close to the ground and they knocked me down, that's how I got this," Jack said, gesturing to the cut. "They knocked my staff away and stalled me there for  _hours_  before Cupid happened to find me and pull me out of there. I was really weak and not much use to anyone at that point so he helped me get back to you, but by the time we got there the Shadow People were already at work on you. After I chased them off long enough for Cupid to grab you, we brought you here."

"I remember hearing Cupid's side of the conversation," Rowan said. It made sense now, the boy with the wings talking about flying off somewhere else. Talking to what seemed like no one. She felt guilt tug at her heart again, knowing now that it was  _Jack_  that he had been talking to, and she couldn't hear or see him because she'd stopped believing.

"I'm so sorry, Rowan, I'm so sorry I wasn't there earlier," he said.

"I was worried something happened to you," she said, eying the cut on his forehead again. She was sure it would look even worse if she could see properly. "I knew you wouldn't be that late unless something happened. I'm just glad you're okay."

Aside from looking a little banged up and having a voice to match, he seemed physically fine.

"They could have killed you, they  _would_  have if Cupid hadn't shown up. I just… I'm so angry at myself, that I wasn't there to help you earlier because I fell for a stupid trick.  _Again,"_  he said.

"It's not a stupid trick," she said, her sobs having calmed at least a little. "And you were with me, in a way."

"What do you mean?" Jack said.

Rowan pulled the necklace out from beneath the nightgown's collar and held the charm up for him to see. "The necklace you gave me."

"The stardust worked?" he said, eyes lighting up.

"The stardust worked," she nodded. "They tried to get to my spirit through my heart, but the necklace lit up and defended me every time they tried."

"That's why they only had a hold on your arms and legs," he said. She nodded again.

"It bought me some time after they cornered me," Rowan said. "Pretty  _and_  functional."

"But why did you leave the barrier? I still don't understand why you were in that parking lot," Jack said. Rowan's heart raced again as she thought of the hasty retreat from the apartment building.

"They were inside the barrier," she said, her voice small. Jack hadn't been the only one tricked that night. "Said they got there by traveling through shadows during the day. I don't think they were going to hurt me while I was in there, they just wanted to herd me out where the rest of them were."

Jack groaned. "It's nice to see just how thoroughly our plan failed."

"At least we both got through it alive?" she offered, wiping her tears away the best she could before moving closer to him again. Arms placed securely around him, she allowed her sore body to just lean into the boy and savor the fact that he was solid and real.

"In a manner of speaking. When you stopped believing you were going through the stages of hypothermia," he said, avoiding eye contact as he gently pulled her arms away from him, leaving her puzzled. "The fires here are magic so they weren't doing you any good."

"Well, we've already established that I've still got all ten fingers so I'm okay, right?" Rowan said, brow furrowed. Showing up at the pole was still a blur, though she did remember feeling cold and wondering when she was going to die.

She had thought of death a lot that night.

"I don't want to cause you any more trouble because of the cold," he said with a frown, inching away from her. Her heart sank as he hesitantly released her hand from his grasp.

"Jack, don't," she said, unable to help her voice cracking as she spoke.

"I've watched countless people die of hypothermia, and I thought I was going to have to watch you, too. I don't know how much of your current condition is because of that or the Shadow People and I don't want to make it worse," Jack said, his face showing nothing short of regret. "I wasn't thinking before. I honestly shouldn't have even kissed you, I just… all I can do is keep you cold."

"Jack, every time I've woken up in this room before this I've been alone," Rowan said frantically, closing her eyes as they had begun to ache between her tears and the movement of the pupils. "I've been confused, and sore, and sick. And before I turned up here? Nothing was real. My entire world was gone as far as I knew."

"I'm sorry—"

"I'm tired," she said, opening her eyes again. "And I'm starving. And I can't stop crying. And now I can't even take comfort in the fact that my boyfriend  _is_ , in fact, real, because he's afraid of giving me hypothermia when he's  _never_  come close before."

"Rowan, I just—"

"You're just looking out for me, you just don't want to hurt me. That's great. That's really thoughtful, it is. But Jack," she paused, still crying softly. She felt silly for what she was about to say, but she was already a sobbing mess, there wasn't much that could be done to make that worse. "I'm scared about everything that happened and right now I just need someone to hold me a hell of a lot more than I need someone to keep me warm."

Jack sighed, watching the sobbing girl with those sad eyes that only prompted more tears from her.

In the next moment, the boy moved closer again, pulling her into his arms once more. She leaned into his cold embrace, sliding her arms tightly around him again. It was true; he was cold. Her breath fogged before her and as her tears rolled off her cheeks and into his jacket, they froze.

But the feeling was familiar, and so, so comforting. He still smelled like pine, and the temperature difference was the first thing that had actually managed to sooth her pounding headache.

"I never know what to do when you cry," he mumbled.

"This works," she sighed, tightening her grip on him. "This is all such a mess."

"Tell me about it," Jack said. "Next time I suggest we play hookey, we're playing hookey."

Rowan couldn't help but laugh slightly through the tears. It was true, if Jack had blown off his other responsibilities and if she had ditched school to stay in with him, the new moon might have gone quite differently.

Her smile quickly faded, however, as she suddenly realized something, pulling away from him enough to properly look him in the face. "What day is it?" she asked. How long had she been there?

"Sunday," he said. "Well, Sunday  _night_ , anyway. It's hard to tell because it's always dark here this time of year."

"Oh!" Rowan said, seeming relieved as she set her head back against his shoulder. "Good, good, that means I haven't missed school yet. I don't have anything due tomorrow so I won't have to worry about that but I'll have to scramble to get my sketches ready for Tuesday— oh, ouch, my head."

She closed her eyes and groaned, leaving Jack to wince as he watched her. "I hope this headache eases up by then," she mumbled.

Jack bit his lip before saying gently, hesitantly, "Rowan, you can't go back to class tomorrow."

"No, no, it's okay, I can walk… kind of. I sit for most of the day anyway. I just have to make sure I don't fall asleep in the middle of class since I've only been able to stay awake for a short while at a time. We're only doing preliminary work now so it doesn't  _really_  matter that my eyes have been acting up as long as I can still see. I'll have to come up with some kind of cover story, of course. Bad cold ought to do it," Rowan said, stopping to cover her mouth and cough. She'd spoken with such speed her throat had finally protested painfully.

"Well, I mean besides the fact that leaving this  _bed_  is a bad idea right now," Jack said. "You're not allowed to leave the North Pole."

Rowan's eyes widened. "What do you mean I'm not allowed to leave the North Pole? I have to go to class, I can't stay here!"

"Well, Apollo and Manny have relieved me of my responsibilities as your guard," Jack confessed, her heart sinking as he stated as much. "They said that you, Erato, and Polyhymnia are not allowed to leave the pole until the Shadow People are no longer a threat. Unfortunately, the soonest we can try and take care of them is the full moon."

"When's that?" she demanded.

"Two weeks," Jack said.

This couldn't be happening. Rowan shook her head, feeling tears filling her eyes again. "Jack, I can't miss two weeks of school. They'll withdraw me from my classes for non-attendance if they don't just automatically  _flunk_  me. I'll fall a full semester behind, I…"

She had never failed anything, she had never missed a deadline much less  _fallen a whole semester behind_. She had a plan, she had a purpose, and that was to finish school on time, with honors. She liked her plan, and for a while it had been unaffected by magic. For a while it was a distraction from magic. When she was at school, no one knew she was the Mortal Muse and no one cared. She could just draw and study and try to forget the dark creatures trying to kill her.

But now here she was.

"I'll have to do a summer semester, but that means I can't work full-time like I did last summer to make rent, and it means I won't get a break between my next  _three_  semesters and… I wonder if I'll get my tuition back for this one," she groaned, leaning into Jack again, unsure of what else to do.

"I'm sorry," Jack said again, resting his head against hers. "But at least as long as you're here, you're safe."

"But class was the only break I got from all of this…" she said, more to herself than to him.

If she had thought magic was interfering with her life a lot before, it was painfully obvious now how mistaken she had been.


	53. Breath of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know I've been kind of sucking at the whole "updating once a week" thing recently and I do apologize for that. I thought I had this chapter entirely figured out, but one of these scenes had to be re-written a few times and turned out much longer than I originally intended. There was also supposed to be another scene at the end of this chapter, but it didn't feel like it fit, so it'll got at the start of the next one. I also threw some Russian in here that I got off the internet, spelled phonetically, so hopefully I didn't mess that up too badly.

_"You're not dead. You didn't die. No one is planning a funeral, no one is going to mourn you, because_ you are not dead, Rowan. _So, stop it."_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Three: Breath of Life**

* * *

Rowan's hands were still trembling as she lifted the spoon from the bowl, eying the blood red soup curiously. Borscht, or so she'd been informed: the yetis' special recipe.

She had never had borscht. As her stomach grumbled and turned with hunger, she forced away any doubts about the dish. She hadn't eaten since Friday afternoon and had grown hungry to the point of nausea. She had no room to be picky.

Setting the spoon to her lips was proving to be difficult with her unsteady hands. She sighed in frustration as soup spilled over the edge of the spoon and back into the bowl at her movements. Rowan leaned in, closer to the bowl to at least give the spoon less distance to travel. She was determined to complete this task, this painfully simple task, on her own. Finally, the spoon met her starving lips.

It tasted sweeter than she had expected, though if she was being completely honest, she wasn't exactly sure what borscht  _was_.

It would do, though. It would more than do.

Rowan kept her eyes focused on the dish, her vision still featuring the same strange glow. The way her spoon clattered clumsily against the bowl echoed loudly through the room, only emphasizing the silence of the other beings present. Jack sat cross-legged on the side of the bed not currently occupied by Rowan and her tray of food. North was settled in the armchair.

The older man had arrived perhaps ten minutes earlier, knocking on the door and quite pleased to learn that Rowan was both awake and able to interact with him and Jack. He had sent a yeti to get her something to eat, insisted she get back beneath the covers, and set a large hand to her forehead in an attempt to determine if she had a fever.

He had concluded that she did not. Rowan suspected that her recent contact with Jack might have something to do with it. Then the yetis had arrived with a roll of bread and this strange soup on a tray. After the yetis left, the room fell into its current, quiet state. Rowan could feel both sets of blue eyes fixed on her, as though they were waiting for something bad to happen.

All she wanted to do was eat, get herself cleaned up, and go back to sleep… in her own bed, back in her apartment. As she tore off a small portion of the bread she couldn't help but think of how much she would rather be at said apartment with her lazy, not all that healthy, "I'm in college and living on a budget" meals. What she wouldn't give to curl up with her laptop and some instant noodles right now.

Granted, in this fantasy of hers  _(instant noodles and internet movies are a fantasy now_ , she realized with a grimace) she wasn't ill and sore. Her mind hadn't been reduced to a game piece to be fought over between one group claiming her as a victim and the other claiming her as their sister.

Rowan tried not to think about that as she continued staring deep into her bowl, all the while trying to keep her mind off the nervous supernatural beings watching her as well.

Jack was the one that finally broke the awkward silence, turning to address North. "Did you, uh, ever find out who brought the sage in?" he asked, gesturing to the dish on the bedside table.

"No," North said, shaking his head. "Thought perhaps it was Bunny, but he said he did not know who brought it in. Was not Polyhymnia or Erato, either."

"Have  _all_  of you been checking in on me?" Rowan more mumbled than actually said. She had assumed that it had only been Jack sitting at her bedside while she had been sleeping. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about others lurking in the room.

But was she surprised? Not really. She hadn't met many immortal beings that respected things like personal space. Even Jack was barely an exception, as he had to receive a full-blown lecture (and tasing) first.

"It was mostly Jack," North assured her. "The rest of us would only visit briefly, to check your vitals."

"Oh," Rowan said. "What's the, um—sage was it? What's the sage for, anyway?" It left behind a pleasant enough smell, but she remembered whoever left it mumbling something. Something that she wanted to think was a prayer or a spell of some kind.

"Supposed to cleanse room of negative spirits," said North.

"What about these?" Rowan set down her spoon for a moment to shift slightly and pull the crystals from beneath her pillow. She handed them to North, finding that they looked unusually small in his grasp as he examined them ever so critically.

"Hmm," he said. "Rose quartz, amethyst, and this last one is citrine."

"What are they for?" Jack asked.

North shook his head. "I am not sure, I do not know much about the healing properties of crystals. But I am sure that is why they were placed here; these do not seem malicious. Perhaps ask Polyhymnia or Bunny."

North gently placed the crystals back in her unsteady hand. Rowan set the stones back beneath her pillow and re-focused on the soup. The yetis had given her a generous portion, and with how hungry she was, she had no intentions of letting it go to waste. A decent amount had already been devoured by the girl, and she began to wonder if portions this size were even considered large for the yetis and North.

"On the topic of things that showed up with no explanation, though, where'd this nightgown thing come from? Do you just… have them around?" Jack asked, gesturing to the nightgown that Rowan still wore.

"Oh, that belonged to my daughter. Polyhymnia thought it would be more comfortable. Though, it does not seem to fit you. Eva was at  _least_  a foot taller than you are," North said with a small smile.

"More comfortable, sure. As long as I don't consider the fact that someone had to undress me while I was unconscious to put it on me," Rowan said. She honestly thought she might have felt better if she had woken up in her jeans. At least they were familiar. Not to mention, hadn't the Muses invaded her person enough? "I know it's petty, and I'm sure she was just… helping out or whatever. But I don't know, this is just  _different_  than a medical professional doing it or something."

North's smile faded as she spoke and she noticed him exchange glances with Jack. It wasn't very often that she felt so painfully  _mortal_  around Jack, but now was certainly one of those times. She wondered what the glances meant. Was Rowan embarrassing Jack in front of what was essentially his coworker? Did North find her ungrateful for what they had done to accommodate her and keep her alive?

She was honestly trying not to think about what they had done to keep her alive or the entire reason she had stopped believing and been at risk in the first place. All she wanted was to get out of their hair and get back to her life.

"I am sorry, this whole situation must be very… uncomfortable," North acknowledged after pausing to find the right word.

"Is the full moon really the earliest I can hope to get out of here? I mean, don't get me wrong, I appreciate that you're letting me stay here and feeding me and everything, but… I have student loans and shit, you know?" she said, tearing off another piece of bread.

Jack sighed. Rowan knew very well that he had already gone over this with her. But she was desperate for a different answer.

"I am afraid so. We cannot go against these orders," said North. Rowan wasn't surprised, but managed to be disappointed as  _another_  Guardian informed her of this. "You are safest here until the Shadow People are no longer a threat. Besides, we have no idea what another attack, even one  _without_  the advantages the new moon gave them, would do to you in this state. You seem to be improving, this is the longest you have stayed awake to my knowledge, but you are recovering from something that is, I think, bigger than you realize."

"So I stay here and just… go back when everything's safe again? Like nothing happened? What about my family? They're going to notice I'm gone," Rowan said. Her parents worried, it was quite simply what they  _did_. It was almost a hobby of sorts for them. Dot had calmed down considerably after Rowan had successfully completed her freshman year away from home without ending up hospitalized or dead or something. But they still never went more than two days or so without contacting each other.

Even her father every now and again sent her dumb text messages with pictures of comic book panels or one of the action figures he actually unboxed posed dramatically, embarking on some kind of adventure with his office supplies. A lack of response to those would at least go unnoticed longer than her mother's calls.

"It has not been that long. We will figure something out to explain disappearance," North said, exchanging glances with Jack again.

"I don't know, her mother calls her a  _lot_ ," Jack said hesitantly "It's like she knew she couldn't interrupt us in person anymore, so she had to make up for it with phone calls."

Had the circumstances been different, Rowan was sure she would have smiled at Jack's comment. But she was much too focused on the guilt consuming her as she thought of how terrified her parents would be If she just up and disappeared. Not to mention guilt over the fact that she hadn't considered this earlier.

"We still have time, is just now Sunday night. Sure that no one has even noticed you are gone yet. We will come up with solution tomorrow night at meeting," North said. Rowan could only hope that it was truly that simple.

But he was right, it  _was_  only the weekend that had passed. For all anyone knew, she'd gotten a cold and spent the whole time downing cough medicine and trying to sleep it off. However, she wasn't sure how much  _longer_  she could stay missing without her parents freaking out and her friends growing suspicious.

"We'll figure out what to do about your school situation, too," Jack said. As soon as he mentioned school, Rowan groaned, realizing something else.

"Oh,  _shit,_  I'm probably going to lose my work study position, too. Great, just… great," she sighed. She was scheduled to work the next day, and a few more days that week. Because her school was so small, there weren't a lot of work study positions in the first place. She had been lucky to get a position at all, much less one that was easy, allowed her to work on her homework when she finished filing and was very flexible with her hours. And now, due to the fact that she wasn't going to be present to actually  _do_  this job, she was almost certainly going to lose it.

Rowan was going to fall a semester behind  _and_  she would have to seek a paycheck elsewhere. On top of all that, her parents were going to worry themselves into a coma. Unless the Guardians and the Muses came up with some grand solution at the next meeting.

Everything was going so  _perfectly_  for her.

She set the spoon back into the bowl, mostly empty, before pushing the tray away. She couldn't find it in herself to eat any more as her mind rushed with worry.

"Is nothing we can do about this right now, no sense in getting worked up," North said, patting her on the shoulder in what she was sure was  _supposed_  to be a comforting way, but she immediately found herself groaning in pain. North winced and pulled his hand away. "Sorry, Smertnyy Muza."

"Sm-what?" Rowan said, cocking a brow. She glanced Jack's way, remembering that he knew  _some_  Russian. The boy shrugged.

"I think Muza is Muse," Jack offered.

"Mortal Muse," North nodded. "Smertnyy Muza."

"Of course," Rowan sighed. That damn title had brought her nothing but trouble ever since it came to her attention. Now she could cringe at it in two different languages.

"I will call you just 'Rowan' in future, hm?" North smiled. Rowan couldn't help smiling softly back.

It was so insignificant compared to everything else, but it  _did_  comfort her at least a little. "Thank you," she said. "I'd appreciate that."

"Are you through?" he asked, gesturing to her food.

"Yes, it was wonderful, thank you," she said. North took the tray and stood upright.

"Jack, may we talk?" the older man said, gesturing to the door. Jack's eyes darted between North and Rowan for a moment. He was hesitant to leave, that much was clear.

The gesture was nice, certainly, but Rowan couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about  _that_  too. He should be able to go talk to North without worrying that his girlfriend was going to fall apart or something the second he looked away.

"I'd rather—" Jack started.

"I'll be fine, go ahead," Rowan said. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"You sure?" Jack asked. She nodded. Just because  _she_  was skipping out on her responsibilities didn't mean he should, after all. He stood upright, opening the door for North, whose hands were full with the tray.

"I won't be long," Jack said.

"Take your time," said Rowan. He offered her a small smile before closing the door behind him.

* * *

Jack and North hadn't walked far when a passing yeti, already carrying several other dishes, offered to take the tray from North. The yeti tossed the remains of the bread to a nearby elf who was clearly overjoyed at his new prize. Honestly, the way some of the elves behaved when they came in contact with certain food implied that they  _weren't_  as well fed as Jack knew them to be.

"Do not think she cares for me much," North commented nonchalantly as Jack fell into step beside him.

"What, Rowan? No, it's the situation she hates, not you," Jack said. Or so he hoped, at least. He was reminded, yet again, that Rowan hadn't had a lot of contact with the other Guardians in the past. She'd interacted with them upon learning that she was the Mortal Muse, and at the ball, but that was about it. He still didn't see her as the type to blame North personally for her being stuck there, though. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

"No, no," North said, waving the notion away. It  _did_  seem silly to drag Jack away because of Rowan's opinion of the older man. "Did not want to discuss in front of her, did not want to upset her further. How soon do you suppose people will worry over her absence?"

Jack winced. He didn't know Rowan's friends well at all. He just knew what he'd observed the handful of times he had been lurking nearby when Rowan had been around them, and the stories she'd mentioned in passing. He didn't know much about her professors at all outside her brief mentions during mealtime conversations or while complaining about a textbook or assignment.

"I only really know about her parents, I can take guesses at the others," Jack said. "We might be able to slide a few more days. Her parents  _might_  assume she's been too busy to respond to their messages. But they worry about her; she's their only kid. They  _will_  think something's up if she doesn't get back to them at some point."

"And the others you mentioned?" said North.

"She said if she misses enough classes they'll either automatically withdraw her or fail her. So, her professors  _will_  notice she's gone and I don't know if the school will call her parents about it or not since she's an adult," Jack said. He wasn't entirely sure how higher education worked, but he was certain in the past he had overheard a few stressed-out college students (that he may or may not have been harassing with strong winds to send their term papers flying and thus stress them out further) take solace in the fact that at least the school could not discuss their grades with their parents unless they signed a release. Attendance had to fall under that policy as well, right?

"If she still owes tuition and they cannot contact her, I am sure they would call her parents," North sighed as they passed the globe, still sparkling brilliantly. Jack winced again. The fact that Rowan was pursuing a college degree was really going to throw things off in this new "keep her at the pole where it's safe" plan. "What about friends of hers?"

"Shirley and Adam are the ones we have to really worry about, I think. Rowan spends a lot of time with them and she and Shirley have a few classes together," Jack said. He felt like Rowan had mentioned not having class with Adam since early freshman year. Was he even the same major? Jack couldn't remember. "Rowan never outright  _says_  it, but I get the impression that Shirley gets distracted by Adam a lot, even when Rowan is right there. So, I guess we hope that this is no different and it'll take them a while to worry."

"How long do you think we have to sort this out before they report her missing?" North asked, leading the way inside his workshop and settling down in his chair. "We do not need frenzy over this. Will be much harder for her to go back."

More and more lies would have to be told to get out of  _this_  one, and "Pilates" certainly wasn't going to cut it.

"We need to come up with something sooner rather than later," Jack said, taking a seat on the worktable. "If there's no sign of her by even the end of the  _week_ , it's going to be a mess."

"What if we had Thalia or Melpomene disguise themselves as her?" North suggested.

"What, and play the part? Neither of them know her well enough to pull it off, it would probably just make everyone  _more_  suspicious," Jack frowned. Thalia posing as him for a picture was one thing, standing in as a live Rowan Sawyer was another.

The whole notion of none of them knowing her well enough was sort of frustrating in its own right. The Guardians had made it a point that getting attached to a mortal never ended well. The Muses seemed to follow suit. Jack had been discouraged left and right from growing close to Rowan or getting to know her at all, even before it had even been established that she could see him.

North was the only one that had encouraged the interaction, and even he hadn't had much contact with the girl. So little that Jack wasn't even completely sure what Rowan's opinion of the man was, if she had one at all.

And now here Jack was: having to explain aspects of her personal life because he was the only one who bothered to actually get to know the girl they were trying to protect. Because knowing who she was as a person was actually relevant and important now.

He would have been smug about it if it weren't for the fact that the circumstances were so unsettling.

"Besides," Jack continued, "It's not enough to show up and look like her. What about her assignments? She's on the honor roll or something—wait, no Dean's List, that was it."

"Thalia or Melpomene could certainly get through some lectures, especially  _art_  lectures," North said, seeming to choose to ignore the fact that neither Muse knew Rowan well enough to act the part.

"But she has studio classes, North. Where they sit and they work on art projects for hours in-class. Around professors and other students that have  _all spent more time with Rowan than the Muses have_. So, unless the Muses can all mimic a person's work habits and style well enough to produce work  _and_  fool those people…" Jack said.

North sighed, stroking his beard in thought. "All good points, certainly, but it still may be better than nothing."

"Not if Melpomene does it," Jack mumbled. North only nodded. Melpomene would easily destroy every relationship Rowan had with minimal effort. Rowan would return to her life alive, but completely isolated.

"We will discuss with the Muses tomorrow night, then. Certainly nothing will happen by then. Did Rowan tell you anything new about what happened during the new moon?" North asked.

"Yeah, actually. She left the apartment because the Shadow People were inside the dream barrier," Jack said, cringing at the thought. How long had they been lurking there in wait? He couldn't help being angry at the thought that they could have been listening in on intimate conversations and private moments.

"How did they manage that?" North said, surprised and appalled.

"Traveling through the shadows during the day, apparently," Jack said. "They chased her out of the barrier so the rest of them could take care of her there."

"We should have provided back-up for the new moon, especially after last time," North said, shaking his head. "At least Cupid came through."

"You don't think he sold us out, then?" Jack couldn't help but ask. He hadn't seen much of Cupid since they'd last talked and didn't know if there had been any changes in that situation. He assumed it was probably the same.

"No, no, I am not sure what happened but I do not think anyone knowingly betrayed us," said North. "Did Rowan tell you anything else?"

"Well, the necklace I gave her worked," Jack said. On one hand, he was thrilled that the pendant had actually done what he'd intended it to do. It had kept her alive and bought her some time until help arrived. On the other, it still hadn't protected her enough to avoid the physical and mental strain she'd gone through. "She said they couldn't get to her heart because of it, bought her some time."

"Very good! Good to know she was not entirely unprotected," North said, standing in order to properly pat Jack on the shoulder with pride. Jack found himself buckling beneath the man's strength.

"Yeah, but she's still… she's not in good shape," Jack frowned. "She was freaking out earlier because she was  _convinced_  this whole thing was a waking dream and she was going to wake up at some point and we were all going to stop existing."

"But you were able to convince her otherwise?" asked North.

"Yeah," Jack said. After, you know, panicking and trying not to break down himself because even when his girlfriend decided to believe in him again it was only within the context of everything being a weird dream. That  _still_  stung. "But she's still shaken up by this whole thing, says it feels like she's been brainwashed."

North shook his head and sighed. "I have never seen all the Muses inspire someone at the same time. It is very powerful, certainly, but it is incredibly overwhelming."

"Yeah, add that on top of everything else," Jack said. "There was a lot of crying before you showed up."

"Understandable. Can only imagine what must be going through her mind."

* * *

The bathtub was large and deep, taking up a great deal of the bathroom. Rowan had never seen such a large tub before, much less used one. It was one of those clawfoot ones and had no showerhead or curtain. Considering the trouble Rowan was having keeping balanced on her trembling legs, perhaps it was for the best that taking a shower wasn't even an option. If she slipped and fell, things could end badly.

But, on the other hand, if she gave in to her exhaustion and fell asleep while taking a bath, things could  _still_  end badly.

This was Rowan's third night at the pole, though, and she hadn't quite been feeling like a human being since she arrived. Eating a real meal was a nice step in the right direction, it had even helped her headache a bit, and a bath would surely help as well.

But none of this was on Rowan's mind as she leaned naked against the wall beside the tub to keep her balance. The much-too-long nightgown was folded haphazardly and set on the counter. The sound of the tub filling with warm water was loud in the background as she examined her now visible arms and legs.

There were marks, like fingerprints, scattered from her wrists to just past her elbows. When she lightly pressed against one, she winced in pain, watching as the space her fingers had touched returned to a flesh color only briefly before going back to the blotches of reds and purples.

Her legs only featured more fingerprint bruises. She hadn't realized the Shadow People could  _leave_  marks like this. She hadn't realized they had been gripping her so hard. She remembered their hold on her feeling strangely soft, almost comfortable, but just unsettling enough not to be.

And here she was covered in handprints that implied something far more dangerous about their touch.

She forced her eyes away from the marks, hoping that perhaps in the state her eyes were in, the bruises somehow looked worse than they actually were. Judging by how full the tub now was, she had been examining her bruises longer than she realized. Turning off the tap, Rowan carefully lowered herself into the water, wincing in pain as she dared continue to move her limbs.

She leaned back, breathing deep and closing her eyes as she tried to relax, tried to let the water sooth her sore body. Her mind, however, would not slow, as she thought back to the bruises and how exactly she'd gotten them. She thought of the darkness, the hopelessness, the feeling that some kind of life force was being pulled from her body.

Thinking of it only brought those emotions back to the surface, her heart racing and her breathing growing heavy. She resolved  _not_  to think of it, trying to think of anything else instead. Her story, perhaps. Yes, that should work.

She had left off with Mr. Perry, Anne, and Jack being taken prisoner by the notorious Captain Phantom and her crew. But as Rowan considered being confined to the brig of a pirate ship, her mind immediately took it as an opportunity to consider being trapped and unable to escape in general.

Rowan remembered being surrounded by darkness with no hope of rescue. The flickering of the light above her was clear in her mind, as vivid as it was that night when she could so clearly hear her heart pounding away, when she was so aware of the breath that filled her lungs, and the blood in her veins.

She could hear it again now as she repeated in her mind what the Shadow People had said to her that night.

_You're all alone, Mortal Muse. You always have been. You're going to die that way._

_Just give in. Why drag things out?_

_Do you think this is one of your stories? …Real life doesn't work that way. You're going to die, Mortal Muse._

Rowan could feel tears rolling down her cheeks again. She remembered struggling in their grasp with no hope of breaking free. She remembered knowing without a doubt that she was going to die.

There was nothing she could do to stop it. She was going to die. Monsters were going to destroy her spirit, consume her soul, absolutely destroy her, and leave her dead in a parking lot.

Death. Soul-eating monsters. Death. Emptiness. Death.  _Last terrified breaths_. Death. Hopelessness. Death. Nightmares. Death. Heart rate increasing for the last time.  _Death._  Last words.

The possibility of everything ending immediately once they had consumed her soul. Lights out. Nothingness.

Peter Pan hadn't been mistaken when he had said that death would be an awfully big adventure. He just hadn't taken into account how terrifying it would be, and how abruptly that adventure might end.

Rowan's eyes shot open and she sat upright, pulling her knees in close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"It's over, it's over, it's okay now," Rowan said to herself through heavy breathing and tears. But was it? She could feel their hold all too well. She could see their ominous figures all too clearly in her mind.

Left alone with her thoughts, her mind was still a whirlwind of confusion and fear. The only thing that managed to be louder than all of that was the constant reminder that she was going to die. She wasn't anywhere near the Shadow People anymore, but the thought,  _I am going to die right now,_  had not been left behind with them.

She reached for some soap and a washcloth and began scrubbing her bruised skin, hoping to focus on anything else. She moved quickly, harshly, leaving herself to wince in pain at the pressure she was applying to her sore body. Her skin grew red, raw in response.

It wasn't working, the physical pain failed to distract her from her terror for her own life. She had been so incredibly close to death, there had been a brief moment when she had considered that it was a better option than the hopelessness she had felt. The fact that she had even briefly considered death a relief left her even more terrified at what had happened.

What would have happened if she  _had_  died that night? She imagined a member of the facility team or a student walking to class finding her body slumped over in the snow and informing the school. The school would call the police, and the mysterious body would be removed. The school already had a reputation for being haunted and this certainly wouldn't help anything.

She wondered what they would conclude was her cause of death. Would that black substance still be in her system? Would medical professionals be able to determine what it was?

She felt a new wave of guilt and new tears form as she considered how her parents would react to the news. Missing was one thing,  _dead_  was something else entirely. Saying that they would be a mess would be an understatement. Rowan was their  _only_  child and to have all their worst fears and worries about her realized?

It would destroy them, and she felt sick knowing that.

"You're not dead, Rowan," she reminded herself, taking note of her heavy breathing to remind herself of such. Her breaths might be quick and desperate, but she was breathing. Her heart might be beating at a worrisome pace, but it was still beating. Her mind might be torturing her with every terrible thought it could manage, but she was still capable of thought.

She was alive, and there wasn't any reason to worry about how her death would go over for her parents when she was  _alive_.

And yet, she did. She worried about putting her parents through that. She worried about putting the rest of her family and friends through such a thing. She worried about her parents trying to plan a funeral; she wondered who would come.

She wondered how Jack would deal with it, knowing all too well that he worried about the few people he was close to being taken away or deciding to leave.

It all felt too real.

"You're  _not_  dead," she said again to herself, setting the washcloth aside and instead focusing on scrubbing her hair aggressively. Her fast, heavy breathing continued. She wondered if she was hyperventilating and what exactly you were supposed to do if you were. "You're not dead. You didn't die. No one is planning a funeral, no one is going to mourn you, because  _you are not dead, Rowan._ So, stop it."

But what was death like? What did it feel like? Did it hurt? Was it as peaceful as people claimed it to be? Was there a place you went? What if she became a ghost? What if  _everyone_  became a ghost? Was there such a thing as reincarnation that  _wasn't_  whatever it was that Manny and Apollo did?

She felt like she was choking; she couldn't stop shaking.

What if she died and came back as a Muse? What if she was forced to walk the earth for eternity, manipulating others the way the Muses had manipulated her? Not only did she not  _want_  immortality (as terrified as she was of dying, she just really wasn't ready to  _right now)_ , the idea of putting other people through this confused, brainwashed feeling was sickening. The Muses had inspired dreams and a feeling of calm in her before, sure, but the fact that they were  _capable_  of completely changing someone's mindset was terrifying.

She almost wanted to describe it as "doubleplusungood."

She rinsed her hair, hoping that the alternative to becoming a Muse after death was at least more peaceful, but couldn't shake the thought that  _maybe it wasn't_.

So much for taking a bath and relaxing. Rowan pulled the plug from the drain and carefully pulled herself out of the tub, trying to calm her heavy breathing and crying.

The towels were red in color, and very soft and warm as she dried herself off and wrapped one around her body. Sitting at the edge of the still-draining tub, she flipped her hair over and did her best to dry it with another towel, wincing slightly as she noticed some of her hair dye leaving streaks in the towel. "Oops," she mumbled.

There was a knock on the door and she tensed, turning toward it. "Rowan?" came Jack's voice from the other side. It would seem he was done talking to North. "You in there?"

She cleared her throat, hoping it wasn't so obvious she'd been crying when she replied with, "Yes."

"You okay?"

No. She was still thinking about what would happen if she died, her heart was still not slowing down and her breathing was really starting to become a concern for her at this point. She was still in the North Pole instead of back in her apartment, she was still sore and covered in bruises, and she was  _still_  not quite seeing right.

But that probably wasn't what he was talking about. Being "okay" right now was probably more along the lines of "still believing and not drowning in the bathtub or puking up whatever that black stuff was."

"Yeah, I'll, um, I'll be out in a minute," Rowan said, wincing as her voice cracked near the end.

"Okay… I'll be out here if you need something," he said skeptically. Rowan sighed and went back to drying her hair, trying to focus her limited energy on returning her breathing to normal.

By the time she'd gotten her hair to be little more than damp and used a hairbrush that had been left for her on the counter, she'd at least gotten her crying under control. Her eyes had been bloodshot to start with, but now they were slightly swollen, too, with her pupils still behaving oddly. Her breathing had calmed at least slightly, but she wasn't sure how long that would be the case.

She adjusted the towel she wore before finally stepping outside the bathroom, finding Jack sitting in the armchair and examining the crystals from beneath her pillow. She sighed in relief, glad that he was alone. He glanced up as she walked carefully toward the bed and set the crystals back in their place.

"Are those  _bruises?"_  was the first thing out of Jack's mouth as soon as he got a good look at her, standing upright and moving to steady her as she made her way over. She settled herself on the bed and he sat beside her.

"Yeah, I didn't see them before with the nightgown and everything," Rowan said vaguely, pulling the canvas bag over to her and sorting through the clothes inside. She was surprised that Jack didn't know about the bruises, she had assumed he would have been informed and simply hadn't said anything about them yet.

She was sort of hoping there wasn't going to be a fuss. She didn't really want to think about them anymore. Thinking about them only made her think about the new moon.

"I can't believe they bruised you, I can't believe Polyhymnia didn't  _say_  as much," Jack said. When she turned to face him again, the anger was as clear in his eyes as it had been in his voice.

Of course there would be some kind of fuss. She couldn't expect her  _boyfriend_  not to be concerned when she showed up covered in bruises. Hadn't  _she_  been worried the instant she saw that gash on his forehead?

But that didn't make the sinking feeling in her stomach go away at all.

"I didn't think they had that hard of a hold on me, but apparently…" Rowan said, trailing off and returning her attention to the bag. She almost made a comment about Jack having gone through her underwear drawer but it didn't seem the time or the place to do so as she slid a pair on beneath the towel.

She pulled herself to her feet and set her towel aside in order to properly pull on the camisole she had selected, catching the way Jack eyed the bruises on her legs as she went. He winced at the marks, clearly uncomfortable.

She must have gotten dressed and undressed in front of Jack dozens of times since the new year began. She didn't expect him to find her frail and ill body to be any form of attractive right now, but he had never looked at her in such a way before.

He seemed strangely remorseful. She felt strangely self-conscious.

_It's not you, it's the bruises_ , she reminded herself. Which only brought her back to the night she got them again. She shook her head, urging herself not to think of it.

"I should have  _been_  there," Jack mumbled as he brought himself back to his feet. He reached forward, hesitantly, his fingers grazing against some of the marks on her arm. His cold touch didn't bring the same pain her earlier prods at her skin had, but rather relieved some of it instead.

Knees trembling, she set her hands to his shoulders as it became more and more difficult to continue standing. He set his hands to her waist in an attempt to steady her.

"I don't blame  _you_  for this," she said, still clutching his shoulders for support. She recalled clinging to him to keep from losing her balance after traveling with the snow globes and tried to focus on those memories instead.

"You should lie down," Jack said, moving the canvas bag aside and pulling back the blankets on the bed with one hand while still attempting to keep her steady with the other. As she gently settled herself down into a seated position, she caught him still eying her bruises with remorse.

"Jack," she said. "Did you hear me?"

"If I had been there, none of this would have happened," Jack said, letting go of her once it was clear she wasn't about to fall over. He took the towel she had discarded and walked back to the bathroom where he would presumably hang it up. Jack had  _never_  cared about such things as returning towels to their proper place before. Was it just an excuse to walk away for a moment?

"Come on, don't try to  _convince_   _me_  to blame you for this," Rowan called after him, wincing as her voice cracked again. "I already told you, if it weren't for the necklace you gave me, I'd be dead. You didn't almost kill me, the  _Shadow People_ almost killed me."

And there she was, right back in that dark parking lot with the flickering light. Right back to where they almost killed her. She tried to shake the thought away as he silently returned to her bedside, still frowning as he took a seat in the armchair.

"I just hate seeing you like this and knowing I could have prevented it," he said. "I was supposed to  _protect_  you—"

"And the necklace did," Rowan said, breathing deep and trying not to consider the feeling of dread she'd experienced when that shadowy hand had reached for her throat. Before the necklace had lit up to prevent what would have been a quick death.

Why wouldn't he just drop it? All she wanted was for him to stop blaming himself and  _stop talking about it_.

"I know! I know, I can't stop thinking about everything that went  _wrong_ , though," Jack said. Neither could she. Running from darkness, lights flickering and going out, stumbling through snow to the last light she could find. Her heart was racing again and her breathing was quickly growing heavy.

_I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die._

She reached for his hand, clutching it desperately. She needed to know that he was there. If he was there, she was okay. If he was there, she wouldn't die. She always came out of things okay when Jack was around.

Flickering lights, dark creatures emerging from the shadows, looking human enough that their missing features and strange movements were unsettling.

Her heart was surely going to burst.

"Do you have anywhere to be?" she asked suddenly, frantically.  _Don't think of the Shadow People, stop thinking of the Shadow People_. "Like, do you have to go do your winter thing or anything?"

Jack's expression softened as he leaned forward, gently pushing her bangs from her face. "Are you all right?" he asked.

_You're all alone, Mortal Muse. You always have been. You're going to die that way._  It seemed she could perfectly recall every terrible thing their whispering voices had said. Eyes brimming with tears she immediately shook her head. How much could she possibly continue to cry before she finally ran out of tears?

Her voice was small. "I just… I don't want to  _ask_  you to stay here with me if you have to do, you know,  _climate_  things and…"

She was going to die. Emptiness, darkness, eerie whispering voices. It didn't matter how hard she focused on  _not_  focusing on it, it just kept coming back to the forefront of her mind. Her breathing was quickly becoming more desperate despite her attempts to slow down. She began to wonder again if she was hyperventilating.

Brow furrowed, Jack sat beside her, still holding her hand. "I don't have anywhere to be, I'm going to stay right here," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I can't talk about that night anymore," she said between gasps. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult, which only made her all the more fearful. "I keep thinking about it and it keeps freaking me out just as bad as it did at the time and I don't want to do that anymore, okay? I don't want to talk about what happened and how it might not have happened if this one thing was different. Because it  _did happen_  and  _I am bruised_  and there's  _nothing we can do about that._  But I keep thinking about it, Jack, I can't stop, and I keep thinking about dying. All that it keeps coming back to is,  _I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die—!"_

"Hey, hey, slow down," Jack said, prying his hand from her grasp if only to slide his arms around her and pull her trembling form closer.

"I'm going to die, I just have this—this feeling of dread and it won't go away, I'm going to die and I'm going to die  _alone_  and—"

"No, no, it's going to be okay, I promise, it's going to be okay," Jack said, setting a hand to her chin and gently tilting her head up so that she could look him in the eye. "I'm never going to let anything like that happen to you again, Rowan. It's going to be okay."

She didn't know why it helped. She didn't know why she  _needed_  to hear him say that everything was going to be all right. Surely he couldn't know that any more than she did.

But she felt safe with him. He was the only thing she didn't question. She leaned her forehead against his, hands clutching the fabric of his jacket.

"Breathe with me, okay?" he said, beginning to take a long, deep breath. She forced herself to do the same, only exhaling when he did. This continued for a time, Rowan's focus on his chest rising and falling, and at the way her own breath fogged before her as they exhaled.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?" he asked. He looked worried.

"Whatever this is," she said, wishing her heart rate would catch up with her breathing and go back to normal. "This… this feeling like I'm going to die. This forgetting how to breathe like a normal person, this  _clinging_  to you, I don't mean to dump everything on you."

"Panic attacks happen, it's okay," Jack said.

"Is that what this is?" she asked. The term was thrown around so often she had never much considered what  _actually_  having a panic attack was like. Did that mean she'd had one earlier, in the bathroom? The same thing had essentially happened.

Or was all of this part of the same attack? The time she'd managed to calm down in-between just an intermission of sorts?

"Well, I'm not a professional but I've, uh, had my fair share of anxiety," Jack said, adjusting his position on the bed and gesturing for her to lie down, which she did. "Seemed like it to me."

"So, has this happened to you?" she asked as he settled down beside her.

"Handful of times," he said. She curled up against him, still trembling, heart still pounding. She wouldn't wish this level of fear on anyone.

"You're gonna be okay," he said to her again, running his hands along her bruised arms, his cold touch soothing. For a moment they stayed this way, Rowan still trying to keep her breaths in sync with his. She was so exhausted.

"Jack?" Rowan said at once, realizing something.

"Hm?" he asked.

"What happens when you die?" she asked. He paused, grip tightening on her for a moment before he looked away.

"Maybe we ought to talk about something else, huh, Sawyer?" he said, moving again to gently stroke her hair.

"Not knowing scares me," Rowan said, making a point to continue her long, deep breaths. She shifted, leaning over him on unsteady arms to properly look him in the eye in the dim light. "Please, just… I'll feel better if I know what to expect."

"You're  _not_  going to die any time soon," Jack stressed.

"Please," she said again. Jack swallowed, nervous.

"I don't… really know," he said hesitantly.

"But you died," she said. How could he not know what happened? Was he trying to avoid the subject still, or worried that the answer might send her back into panic?

"I did," he acknowledged. "I fell through the ice, and when I hit the water, my body went into shock and I passed out, and that's when I drowned. Between that, and when I woke up as Jack Frost… there's nothing there. It was dark and cold, and that's all I remember, and even that might not be  _death_ , it might just be the first thing I experienced in my new life."

"You don't remember anything?" she frowned. There was nothing to suggest anything but sincerity on his end.

"I'm sorry. Even after I got my memories back, that part feels like waking up from a dream you don't remember. Even Tooth can't bring back lost dreams," said Jack, reaching for the blankets and pulling them over them both. Rowan sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It's all right," she said. "Can I ask you a favor, though?"

"Go for it," he said.

"So, if I die without arranging this myself—" she started.

"You're not going to die any time soon," Jack said immediately. "You don't need to be making arrangements."

"Jack, please, it'll make me feel better if you'll just hear me out, it'll be  _one less thing_  to worry about," she said.

His grip tightened on her. "Fine."

"Okay, so if something happens and I die—"

"And nothing will," he had to add.

"Right. But if it  _does_ , there's a box under my bed at the apartment, it's full of my old notebooks with a bunch of unfinished stories, and then there's a grey notebook on the coffee table I started transcribing the pirate story in," Rowan said, able to picture these items perfectly. "If something happens, if at all possible, can you make sure Jamie gets those?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, and Rowan swore he pulled her in closer to him, which she wasn't sure was possible in the current position they were in. "Yeah, I can do that," he said.

"I just want someone that loves them as much as I do to have them… and he'd finish them," she said, feeling the tears that ran down her cheeks freeze as they came in contact with Jack.

"What about your red notebook? That too?" Jack asked.

"No, you get that one," she said softly, thinking back to the notebook in question, settled in the canvas bag. "More than half of what's in there is about you anyway."

The pair was silent for a moment. Rowan could hear and feel Jack's heart pounding away, almost as quickly as hers was at the moment. Finally, Jack shifted enough to lean over her and make eye contact again.

"You're going to live long enough to forget all about me," he whispered, blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay before clearing his throat.

"I could never forget you," she said, raising her trembling hands to his hair. She pulled him into her lips, desperate for this contact. "I love you, Jack Frost," she breathed.

"I love you, Rowan Sawyer," he sighed.


	54. Missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Another late chapter, I'm really sorry. BUT, this is also, I'm pretty sure, the longest chapter in this whole story right now, which will hopefully make up for that. It was going to be even longer but I decided to split the last scene in this chapter up between this chapter and the next one, it was getting kind of claustrophobic.
> 
> Anyway, like I said, I'm really sorry that I keep updating late. I haven't lost interest in this story or anything, I'm just kind of going through a rough time with my mental health right now, my new medication has my sleeping schedule all weird, and then on top of that I came down with a cold a few days ago. But I'm taking steps to work through my mental nonsense and hopefully I'm going to sort my shit out soon. This story really makes me happy and I love reading your reviews and drawing pictures for it, so thank you guys, really, for continuing to be part of such a positive thing in my life.

_"Really? I thought I still looked pretty bad."_

_"Oh yeah, you look at least… ten percent less like a corpse."_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Four: Missing**

* * *

"Hello, Aster," Clio said through a yawn, untying the scraps of fabric twisted in her hair in order to give her the ringlets that were practically her trademark style.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Bunny said, peering curiously at a half-finished something or another that was scattered across the nearby table. Clio's workshop was always in some state of disarray and today was no different. It seemed that some people worked best in a state of chaos and Clio was certainly one of them.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I've been awake for like an hour, I just couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. I sort of neglected to sleep regularly, or at all, actually, for the past, oh… five days," Clio said, brow furrowed as she realized the exact number. "Between the new moon and sorting out the weapons and everything else."

"Speaking of weapons, have you, uh, brought up our blueprints to North at all?" Bunny asked. He and Clio had begun drafting plans for a potential weapon while collecting the stardust a few weeks back, but thus far nothing had come from the plans. They had both been apprehensive to actually use them.

"No," Clio said, still fiddling with her hair. "I haven't even brought it up to Calliope, honestly. I mean, I started playing around with the apparatus the other night when I came back here and my brain was still going a mile a minute. But it isn't functional or anything right now. Have you mentioned anything?"

"No. I'm sure it'll come up at the meeting tonight, though," Bunny frowned, unsure how to even begin to present these plans to the others.

"Probably," Clio sighed, shaking her curls slightly now that she had removed all of the strips of fabric, stuffing them in the pocket of her large, fluffy robe. "Is that why you came, to touch bases on the plans?"

"No, actually. I loaned you a book, about three years ago? The one on herbs and remedies"

Clio furrowed her brow in thought. "Right. It had green binding?"

"Yes," Bunny nodded.

Clio yawned again, wandering to the far corner of the room where a small, wooden chair was situated against a wall. There was a stack of books haphazardly arranged atop the chair's surface. Carefully, Clio gripped the spine of one of the thicker books near the bottom of the stack. She gently pried the book from the others, sliding each corner out only slightly as she went. The other books shifted downward with a large  _thud_  when she finally managed to remove it, but none fell from the stack.

"This one?" Clio asked, handing the book to Bunny.

"That'd be it," Bunny nodded. "North said the Mortal Muse's eyes are acting up, I think there's something in here that'll fix it."

"How's she doing otherwise? Poly and Erato haven't had a chance to check in on her since she woke up and they've been the ones giving us updates," Clio said.

"North and Jack say she's weak and confused. Scared. Just about what you'd expect," Bunny shrugged, flipping through the pages of the book.

"I'm just curious to know if her condition will continue to get worse or not. We know that immortals can recover fully from contact with the Shadow People in their current state but… well, she's mortal," Clio said.

"Right. For all we know this could still kill her, just at a slower rate than they wanted," Bunny frowned. He reached the page he was looking for, marked it, and closed the book. "I guess we'll have to wait and see if she improves. Treat the symptoms in the meantime."

"Maybe Pitch knows something," Clio shrugged.

Bunny scowled. "I can't wait for this to be taken care of so that we can wash our hands of that—that—"

"Wanker?" Clio suggested.

"That works."

* * *

"Maybe she's protesting Mondays! Or, you know, maybe she just overslept and missed your first class," Adam said with a yawn, cold fingers wrapped tightly around the travel mug of coffee that he had refilled before he and Shirley had left campus.  _He_  was technically supposed to be in class right now, but Shirley had insisted he go on this mission with her instead.

Honestly, it wasn't difficult to convince Adam to miss his math class. Even art school math was still math.

"She hasn't done  _that_  in like a year. And that was way later in the semester, after a ton of all-nighters, this semester isn't even that bad yet," Shirley said, leading the way down the hall towards the apartment at the end. "She hasn't answered any of our texts, she didn't go to the show on Saturday—"

"She  _said_  she might not," Adam pointed out before sipping some of his coffee.

"Yeah but she always lets us know, or at least lets  _Nicolette_  know! Especially since we were thinking of carpooling," said Shirley.

"Okay, well, you were kind of passive aggressive when you texted her about not being there, maybe she's pissed and ignoring you," Adam shrugged.

"I was not passive aggressive!"

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't!"

"Yes, actually, you were."

"When am I  _ever_  passive aggressive?"

"Like every day. Do you not remember throwing a whole  _passive aggressive_  drag because I ate the last pop-tart yesterday?"

"Well, fine, either way, if she's pissed at me she can stop being chicken shit and say it to my face," Shirley said, stopping at the door they had been approaching and pounding her fist against it. "Hey, Sawyer!"

"Or she could be sick," Adam offered as another explanation, wincing as Shirley  _continued_  to bang against the door.

"But in  _that_  case, she would have texted me to remind me to take decent notes for once in art history so that  _she_  could copy them. And half the time she tells me that and ends up showing up for class sick anyway," Shirley said. She returned her attention to the door. "Rowan! Hey, Rowan, open up! I know you're in there, your car's in the parking lot!"

"Maybe she  _isn't_   _home,"_  Adam shrugged.

"But her car is in the parking lot," Shirley said again. She reached for the doorknob and was surprised when it turned easily. "Huh. Door's unlocked."

"Shirl—" Adam started.

"Rowan?" Shirley said, looking around as she pushed the door the rest of the way open.

"We can't just walk into her apartment," Adam said as the pair did just that.

"But the door was unlocked," Shirley said, still scanning the area for any trace of their friend. The lights were all out, a quick glance in the bathroom proved it to be empty. The apartment was entirely silent and completely still. There was something unsettling in the air.

"Maybe she just ran downstairs to check the mail or get something out of her car or something," Adam suggested, taking a seat at the table.

"Without her keys?" Shirley said, pointing to the obnoxiously pink lanyard containing Rowan's key ring on the table. Adam reached for Rowan's cell phone, discarded nearby and attempted to turn it on. Shirley walked over to glance at the screen over Adam's shoulder.

The lock screen came to life for only a moment, revealing that Rowan had several missed calls and about thirty missed texts. A message quickly appeared on the screen alongside a sad tone. The message featured an empty battery icon, and stated that it was critically low. The phone shut itself off.

"Well, phone's basically dead," Adam said.

"Her wallet's here," Shirley said, gesturing to the counter. She walked over to it, picking it up and opening it. "It doesn't look like anything's missing, I mean, there's cash in here and her cards, her ID…"

"So, she's been away from her apartment without her wallet, keys, phone or car… long enough for her phone to completely die," Adam said, turning the phone over in his hands.

"I don't like this, Adam," Shirley said. She pulled her own phone from her pocket and began to fiddle with the screen.

"I don't really either… but there's got to be  _some_  reasonable explanation for it, right?" Adam said. All he'd been doing was coming up with reasonable explanations for this since they'd left campus. But now he was drawing a blank.

Rowan wouldn't just leave her apartment unlocked. She was the kind of person that would turn around and double-check if she wasn't quite sure she'd locked it in the first place. There weren't many people in  _general_  that would leave without at least their phone and keys.

"Yeah, there is," Shirley said with a frown as she set her phone to her ear. Adam could hear the line ring only once before whomever she had called picked up. "Hey, how do I go about reporting a missing person?"

* * *

"'Suddenly,'" Lorelei said, sitting at the kitchen table with a list in front of her and her son seated across from her. Jamie looked painfully bored.

"S-U-D-D-E-N-L-Y," Jamie said with a sigh.

"Very good. 'Syllables,'" said Lorelei.

"S-I—" Jamie began. Lorelei shook her head. Jamie groaned. "S- _Y_ -L-L-A-B-L-E-S?"

"Good," said Lorelei.

"How many more? I already did my worksheet," Jamie pouted. Lorelei smiled. She had always hated studying for spelling tests, too.

"We're almost done," she said, returning her attention to the list. "Spell 'fugitive.'"

"F-U-G-I—" Jamie started when Lorelei's cell phone began to buzz and ring beside her on the table. She lifted the phone and glanced at the screen, finding her sister's picture as the caller ID. "—T-I-V-E?"

Strange. Usually Dot called on weekends; she was always so busy during the week. In fact, they had just spoken on Saturday.

"Very good, Jamie. One minute," Lorelei said absentmindedly, eyes still on the buzzing phone. Setting it to her ear, she answered the call, "Hey, Dottie, what's going on?"

_"Lor, Rowan's missing,"_  came Dot's voice from the other end, speaking through a sob. Lorelei froze, feeling her stomach drop at the distress in her sister's tone and what she had said.

"What?" was all Lorelei could say, eyes wide. She had to have misunderstood. Rowan couldn't be  _missing_.

_"I just finished talking with the police."_

"Mom? Is something wrong?" Jamie asked.

"One second," Lorelei said into the phone before setting it to her shoulder and returning focus to her son. "I, uh, I need to talk to Aunt Dot right now, Honey, why don't you go do your reading or something and we can work on your spelling some more later?"

"Can I go outside?" Jamie asked, standing up from the table.

"Yeah, just stay in the yard, okay? Don't let Abbey out," Lorelei said with a nod, returning her attention back to her phone as he headed for the door to pull on his boots again.

"The  _police?_  What happened?" Lorelei said in hushed tones as she returned her attention to her phone.

_"Rowan hasn't been returning my calls or my texts since Friday—"_

"Well, that's not very long, maybe she's been busy," Lorelei said. Hopefully this was just Dot overreacting, as she was prone to do when it came to her daughter. After all, she and Bill had reported her missing once before when Rowan had simply snuck out of the house to see her then-boyfriend's band perform.

_"She hasn't been talking to her friends, either, and she didn't show up for class today, so some of her friends went by her apartment to check on her and she wasn't there."_

"Did she just… leave?" asked Lorelei, keeping her voice down as she glanced back toward the front door. Jamie paused for a moment at the door, watching her curiously. "Don't leave the door open, Jamie," she called after him.

The boy frowned before stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

_"That's the thing, her car was in the lot. Her apartment was unlocked. Her phone was there, her keys, her wallet, her computer. If Rowan was going to leave, she'd… she'd_ at least _take money, she'd definitely take some books or her art supplies but that's all besides the point that_ Rowan would not leave," Dot was rambling on the other side of the phone, sniffling and sobbing. Lorelei bit her lip, mind racing.

Dot was right; Rowan  _wouldn't_  just up and leave. Rowan, daydreaming Rowan, Rowan with her head in the clouds, Rowan who made up stories and had imaginary friends… was painfully responsible. She drove through a snowstorm to make sure she was back to class on time. She earned scholarships. She met all her deadlines; she took on extra work. She had a plan; she wouldn't leave school.

"No, no, she wouldn't. Are there any leads on, uh, what else might have happened? I mean, if she didn't leave…" Lorelei trailed off. What was the alternative? Someone taking her?

Who would take Rowan?

_"Nothing right now, they searched her apartment, they put her in a database. They're trying to find her boyfriend, Jack Overland. Are you_ sure _you've never seen him around?"_

"I'm sure, Dot," Lorelei sighed, standing up from her spot at the table and wandering to the front window. She peered outside at her own child, building a base for a snowman. Sophie had fallen asleep on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around a large stuffed bunny she'd gotten for Christmas. A gift from Santa Claus.

_"I feel like such an idiot. She's—she's just dating this boy that we've_ never met _, that none of her friends have met, that we don't know anything about, that she was_ keeping a secret _from us, that I only found out about because he sent her this—this necklace that had to have cost a fortune and now she's gone! She's gone and we don't know where this guy is either. He's probably some maniac she met online!"_

Lorelei didn't know what to say. She'd suggested as much in jest to the girl, who assured her that everything was fine. Rowan had a certain spark to her when she spoke about Jack, she seemed so happy.

When had everything gone straight to hell?

_"Then—Lor, I had to give the police a detailed description of her. And I keep thinking I forgot something… two moles on the right side of her face. Two stars tattooed on her left wrist. Feather quill and ink tattooed on her ribs. Freckles. Brown eyes…"_

Lorelei glanced back to the kitchen, thinking back to when Rowan had visited for Thanksgiving. "Just those two tattoos?" she said.

_"Yes. Why?"_

Lorelei swallowed. "She's got one on the back of her neck. It says 'Once Upon A Time' in script."

_"What!?"_

"I saw it when she was visiting. She begged me not to tell you."

_"Oh, if I weren't so_ worried _about her I'd—! Another one? On her_ neck? _If she comes back—"_

_"When_  she comes back," Lorelei corrected immediately. They couldn't start losing hope and assuming the worst yet. Dot was a realist, she was probably calculating the odds against Rowan right now, but that wasn't going to help anyone.

_"She's going to be in_ so much trouble _, I can't believe she got_ another one!  _... but thank you. For, uh, for letting me know. I'll pass the information along,"_  Dot said. Lorelei could hear her sister sniffling still. She sounded exhausted, utterly exhausted.

Who could blame her?

"Is there anything I can do?" Lorelei asked, focusing on Jamie again. She nearly stepped to the door to call him back inside, forbid him from going outside again until this blew over but stopped short.

What happened to Rowan couldn't have been predicted or prevented. Right?

Jamie would be okay simply building a snowman in the yard. Right?

" _Some of her friends made a missing poster, they're putting it all over the internet right now. I'm just about to put it on my wall, maybe just… share that? Spread the word over there?"_

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that. You let me know if you need me to do anything else, okay, Dot?"

" _Thank you,"_  Dot said. There was a pause and for a moment Lorelei glanced back at her phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"Still there?"

" _What if we don't find her?"_

"That isn't going to happen, Dot, you've got to stay positive, okay?"

" _I just don't want to find a body, Lor."_

"You won't. Rowan is going to come home alive and well, just keep believing that, okay?"

" _I'll try."_

* * *

"Do you wanna go to Australia?" Jack said, balancing his staff on his palm, taking a step forward or back every now and again to keep it upright.

"Australia?" Rowan asked, having settled into the armchair. She had taken to passing the crystals from one hand to another, finding that holding them seemed to calm her nerves at least a little.

Maybe it was just having something to busy her hands with, maybe they really did have healing properties. It seemed silly to be skeptical about it with things like the Easter Bunny being real and Jack Frost a few short feet away.

"Well, you're not gonna be stuck here forever, and it's not going to be winter in the northern hemisphere forever," Jack said, eyes still fixed on his staff as he went.

"So, I just… run away to Australia once I get out of here?" she said, cocking a brow.

"No running away, just visiting. I'm going to be making some rounds in the southern hemisphere anyway and it's always fun to bother Bunny. I think you'd like the Warren," Jack said, tossing the staff in the air and catching it.

"I don't know, Bunny doesn't really, you know,  _approve_  of the two of us," Rowan reminded him. Jack simply shrugged.

"So, we check out the rest of the southern hemisphere. Or anywhere, really, I can handle heat okay, just as long as I don't make it snow in the Sahara or something, Mother Nature won't care. You're gonna have some time before the summer semester, right?" Jack asked. It was true, even if she got to go home right after the full moon, she would have to wait until the summer semester to go back to class. Unless she took some online classes, she supposed, but even that would leave her with a lot of time at home.

"Yeah," she said. "You plan on taking me around the world, Naughty List?"

"Why not?" Jack said. "It'll give us something to look forward to once we're not bunking here anymore."

"You don't  _have_  to bunk here," she frowned. Technically, it was just her, Erato, and Polyhymnia that were required to remain where they were. Everyone else was free to come and go.

He smirked. She'd all but begged him to stay with her the night before, but that worry that he wasn't paying enough attention to his other responsibilities for her sake was still ever-present.

"Don't worry about it," he said.

"But winter—" she started.

"Isn't over until  _March_. We've got time," Jack said, propping his staff in such a way that he could lean against it. "But yeah, what do you think?"

"I just… I can't get caught in these other countries; it would be impossible to explain. It's lucky nothing happened when you took me to Stonehenge," Rowan said.

"So, we stay where there's not a lot of people. We can see all the weird animals in Australia, or we could even drop by Antarctica, see some penguins?"

"I do like penguins," Rowan smiled slightly. The notion of having something to look forward to, rather than dread, upon her return to her life  _was_  nice. Maybe it could serve as a distraction when she became overwhelmed considering her school situation or mortality.

Perhaps that was the point.

"Who  _doesn't_  like penguins? We'll go see them when this blows over. And whatever else you want to see, just say the word," Jack said with a smile.

"You're spoiling me," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, well, I can't exactly buy you dinner so let me take you to see some silly birds that can't even fly," he grinned.

"All right, all right," she said, holding the citrine between her thumb and forefinger. "Though, do you know what I'd  _really_  like to do once I can leave?"

"Hm?"

"Order a large pizza with extra olives, watch a movie on my computer, and sleep in my own bed," she said. "All of which you are invited to partake in as well."

"That sounds nice," Jack nodded. "Count me in."

"Good," Rowan smiled.

Jack glanced toward the clock on the mantle, frowning slightly before turning back to Rowan. "So the meeting starts in about ten minutes. You're welcome to come if you want, since you're technically part of the alliance and all. But if you don't want to, that's okay too.  _I_  have to go, though."

Rowan bit her lip, fiddling with the crystals again. The last thing she wanted to do was be around the other Muses. Everyone would probably want to talk about the new moon some more and even the thought of discussing it left her heart pounding.

"I really don't want to, but they're going to be figuring out how to cover up my disappearance, aren't they?" she said. Jack nodded. "Then… yeah, I guess I should be there if they're going to be making more decisions about my life."

"All right," he said, offering her his hand so that she could get up from the chair. She slid the crystals into the pocket of her jeans before taking his hand and standing on trembling legs. He slid an arm around her waist and she secured hers around his shoulders. "We'll get you a chair once we're out there."

"Okay," she said as he opened the door and they made their way out to the rest of the pole. It was busy, the yetis walking around them as they approached with a much quicker pace. The lights were overwhelming and left her wincing, her pupils still not behaving normally.

"Hey, listen," Jack said softly as they went. "If you need to leave at all during the meeting, just let me know, I'll get you out of there."

It was strange, having an escape plan. It was strange not knowing if she'd be able to sit and listen to what was happening without going into hysterics as she had the night before. Fear of another anxiety attack was quickly making her more and more anxious in itself.

She didn't like that she needed an escape plan, that she had to worry about breaking down in front of a group of mythical beings that were barely acquaintances. But the fact that Jack was willing to help her with it seemed to put her at ease, at least a little.

"Thank you," she said.

"No problem," said Jack. They stopped near the globe and Rowan grabbed for the railing to keep herself steady. After making sure she wasn't about to topple over anyway, Jack stepped away to get her a chair. Her eyes ached as she tried to watch the slowly spinning globe. Everything was too bright.

Jack returned, setting the chair beside her and she slowly settled herself down.

A tunnel appeared a few feet away and Bunny climbed carefully through, carrying a tall mug with him, eyes fixed upon it. Rowan could hardly carry a glass across a room without spilling it sometimes, she couldn't imagine trying to travel through a tunnel with one.

"Oh good," Bunny said as soon as he realized Jack and Rowan were nearby. He walked carefully to them, holding out the mug for Rowan to take. She reached her trembling hands forward, finding the mug to be much heavier than she'd expected, as well as quite warm to the touch. She glanced down at the orange liquid curiously. "Drink this."

"What is it?" Jack said.

"Mostly carrots. Euphrasia. Some, uh, other things. It'll help fix her eyes," Bunny said. "I make it for North every now and again. Gotta drink the  _whole thing_."

"Thanks," Rowan said, clearing her throat and setting the mug to her lips. She coughed, wincing as the first gulp went down. "Shit, how many carrots are in this?"

"Believe me, you should be happy that the carrot's the strongest taste in there," said Bunny.

"It tastes like I'm drinking a carrot's soul," she said. She didn't have anything against carrots but she had never experienced a carrot flavor this strong before. Bracing herself this time, she set the mug to her lips again, painfully aware of how much was left. The warm liquid was at least soothing to her throat if nothing else.

"North in his office?" Bunny asked Jack.

"Probably," Jack shrugged.

"Drink  _all of it_ ," Bunny reminded Rowan before starting off toward the office in question. Rowan sighed, glancing back at the remaining liquid. Still more than half. Great.

Thinking back to bad parties with cheap alcohol at the dorms freshman year, Rowan took a deep breath and leaned her head back. She choked down gulp after gulp of the strong tea, wincing as she went, only setting the mug down again after a moment to cough.

"Pace yourself, Sawyer," Jack chuckled as she set a hand to her chest and continued to cough for a moment.

"I'm not turning orange am I?" she mumbled between coughs.

"Not yet."

Pushing her hair back, Rowan downed the rest of the mug. She breathed a sigh of relief as she looked inside and found that it was, in fact, empty, and set it aside. A curious elf quickly snatched it up and ran off.

The back of her eyes began to tingle and she winced again, closing her eyes and rubbing at them in irritation. Was it already having an effect on her?

"You okay?" Jack said, setting a hand to her shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just kind of uncomfortable," she said, opening her eyes in time to see Erato and Polyhymnia approaching the platform. Jack had noticed them as well, his gaze darkening.

"I'll be right back," he said, walking to meet the Muses as they came closer. Rowan continued rubbing at her eyes, their conversation seeming to happen far, far away.

" _Hey, Polyhymnia, were you planning on letting anyone know that Rowan was covered in bruises?"_  she could hear Jack say as her eyes began to ache more than they had before. Sharp, shooting pains rushed through her eyes and straight into her brain.

" _I told North and Calliope_ ," the Muse replied calmly.

" _And you didn't tell me because?"_

" _You had been through a great deal yourself, Jack, I felt that it wasn't relevant. You had so much to deal with concerning your own recovery."_

" _You don't get to make that call. Okay, 'sisters' or not, I'm the closest thing she's got to family here and you can't be keeping something like that to yourself."_

Rowan cradled her head in her hands, feeling her eyes water as the sharp pains continued. What exactly were the "other things" that Bunny had put in that tea? She should have asked more questions before taking the whole thing.

" _My apologies. However, with all due respect, Jack, the Mortal Muse is no longer your responsibility."_

_"With all due respect, that doesn't mean anything to me. I'm going to keep looking out for her."_

_"Very well. I will keep that in mind."_

There were scattered footsteps approaching as Rowan continued clutching her head. A warm, gentle hand rested against Rowan's shoulder. The temperature on its own was enough to give away that it wasn't Jack, but it also felt familiar. It was the same touch she'd felt the night of the new moon when she'd been brought to the pole.

"Don't!" she said at once, shrugging away from what she was sure was Polyhymnia, eyes still shut tight.

"Are you all right, Sister?" came her calm voice.

"Don't. Touch. Me," Rowan said, leaning away. Every sound sent another shot of pain through her head.

"We're not going to hurt you, Rowan." That voice was Erato's.

Rowan couldn't even form a response to that. Not going to hurt her? What did they think they had done when she had been convinced she was living in a waking dream? What did they think they had done when she struggled to decide if the thoughts going through her mind were hers or someone else's?

They had treated her mind like a toy. Manipulated it for their own use.

It might have saved her, but it didn't do so without leaving her terrified of what they were capable of.

She could only shake her head. The sharp pains had faded out to a dull pounding at the front of her skull, behind her eyes. She lowered one of her hands to her side, finding that she didn't need to hold on to her head so tightly anymore. Cold fingers slid between hers and she relaxed slightly.

Rowan opened her eyes slowly, finding Jack kneeling nearby and watching her with that worried expression she had become much too familiar with. She couldn't feel her pupils moving abnormally anymore. Jack was crystal clear, no strange glowing effect at all.

Her eyes darted between him and the Muses standing nearby. She could look around without immediately becoming dizzy! She sighed in relief, blinking a few times.

"You all right?" Jack asked.

"My head hurt like a bitch for a minute there," she said. "But I can see clearly now."

Jack smiled, pulling himself back to his feet. "Good." She reluctantly released his hand, trying not to pay too much attention as Erato spoke to Polyhymnia in hushed tones. She was sure they were talking about her as they stepped away to another part of the platform.

Others began to arrive at the pole. Tooth and a few of her mini fairies came next. Baby Tooth immediately settled herself on Jack's shoulder where she was always welcome, but the other mini fairies tagging along fluttered around Rowan's head again, prodding at the tired girl critically. Tooth shooed them away at once, apologizing repeatedly to Rowan, who simply smiled in acknowledgement.

Critical fairies were the least of her problems.

Tooth began speaking with Jack, who was careful not to linger far. Rowan truly felt a bit pathetic about the extent to which she was keeping a sharp (and now clear) eye on him. He was her escape route. He was her protector. She could be around the Muses and the Guardians if he was there with her. She wished that weren't the case, she wished he hadn't become a crutch.

Calliope and Sandy arrived with Euterpe and Terpsichore (as well as their assigned moonbeams) in tow. Calliope approached Rowan and tried to touch her, but Rowan quickly shied away, hissing another  _"don't touch me!"_  command to the eldest Muse. Calliope seemed impatient, frowning and turning her heel to join her other sisters and speak in hushed tones. Again, Rowan was certain it had to be about her.

She reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out the crystals again. She passed them from one hand to the other, apprehensive as could be.

Bunny and North wandered to the platform next, speaking about weapons and strategy. Bunny paused only a moment to check on Rowan and confirm that her eyes were back to normal. Once she expressed her gratitude he smiled and returned to his discussion with North.

Clio touched down from the opening in the ceiling, followed closely by a dim moonbeam, quickly joining in North and Bunny's conversation.

The next person to arrive was Cupid, seeming vaguely annoyed with the moonbeam trailing him as he strolled across the platform, leaning against the railing near Rowan's chair.

"Someone looks less like death," he commented casually.

"Really?" Rowan said, glancing his way. "I thought I still looked pretty bad." When she'd checked the mirror earlier, her eyes still had dark circles and her face was still gaunt and pale.

"Oh yeah, you look at least… ten percent less like a corpse," Cupid said with a small smile.

"Well, thanks," she said, forcing a smile in return. "And, um… thank you for your help during the new moon."

"Don't worry about it, what's family for?" Cupid shrugged. Rowan winced, turning her head slightly to glance back at Erato, who was watching them every few moments. If she was supposed to be Erato's "sister" then that would make Cupid her "nephew" by the same logic.

But the Muses weren't her sisters. And Cupid wasn't her nephew. Rowan shook her head of the thought. It was just too weird to consider that Cupid would feel any sort of family obligation to her at all. Rowan thought back to the night of the ball, when the other Muses had rushed off after Melpomene and Rowan had found herself following. It was like instinct.

But Rowan still didn't know what to trust when it came to the Muses.

Urania and her moonbeam touched down in the background, stepping over to speak with Tooth and Jack.

"Crystals, hm?" Cupid said, gesturing to the stones in Rowan's hands, seemingly trying to change the subject.

"Oh, yeah, someone left them in the room. Do you know who could have done that?" Rowan asked, glancing back at him.

Cupid cleared his throat and shook his head. "No, not really. I know a bit about them, though, what they do."

"Yeah?" Rowan asked, opening her trembling palms to show him the stones. He kneeled down to get a better look, carefully maneuvering so that his wings wouldn't knock anything over.

He pointed to the stone that was partially transparent and partially a deep purple first. "Amethyst is a sobriety stone. It's supposed to help keep you balanced and calm, and help you recover from past events."

"What's going on over here?" Jack asked, tearing his attention from Tooth and Urania, who chattered on. Baby Tooth remained perched on his shoulder, seeming entirely content.

"Learning about crystals," Rowan said.

"It's um, associated with Artemis," Cupid added. "The amethyst."

"Maybe she's the one that left the crystals and smudged the room, it makes about as much sense as anything else," Jack said dryly.

"I doubt that. It wouldn't end well if Apollo found out Artemis was interfering with the Muses," Cupid said with a frown. Jack shrugged. Rowan found herself wondering about the Moon Goddess. What was she like? Was she anything like Apollo and the Muses?

Rowan found herself hoping she wasn't.

Pointing to the orange stone, Cupid said, "Citrine is a solar stone. Associated with Apollo. It's supposed to bring power and luck, and eliminate negative energy."

"Hm," Rowan said. It made sense that such a stone would be associated with Apollo, but she wasn't sure she'd go so far as associating him with the elimination of negative energy. If anything, everyone had tensed when he had arrived at the ball.

"And the last one, rose quartz," Cupid said, pointing to the pink stone, "Is, well, a love stone."

"This should be good," Jack said with a roll of the eye.  _"Cupid's_  gonna tell us all about the  _love stone."_

"Did you tell Rowan  _how_  I found you in Paris?" Cupid said dryly. Jack winced, glancing away. Baby Tooth squeaked, seeming amused.

"What?" Rowan asked, brow furrowed. Jack had just told her that Cupid happened to find him.

"Oh, good, you didn't," Cupid smirked. He turned his attention to Rowan. "Your boyfriend here was so worried about you when the Shadow People had him, that it sent out a signal I could feel from miles away. A  _love signal."_

Rowan couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her lips as she glanced Jack's way, trying not to giggle as his cheeks took on a red tint. It sounded so  _silly_ , a  _love signal._  "You sent out a love signal, hm?"

"That's… one way to describe it," Jack mumbled. "It wasn't on  _purpose."_

"That is adorable," Rowan said, feeling her heart swell at the concept.

"I am  _not_  adorable. I am a Guardian, I am a fierce warrior and protector and—" Jack said, straightening his stance in hopes of looking intimidating.

"A great big lovesick fool. And that's okay, just accept it," Cupid smirked. Jack sighed.

"It's okay, you can be an adorable fierce warrior and protector, it'll work just the same way," Rowan assured him, still smiling.

"That's not nearly as intimidating," Jack said.

"You're a scrawny kid with a stick and a fairy on your shoulder, you're not that intimidating in the first place, Frost," Cupid said.

"But the rose quartz," Rowan said before Jack could respond. She could see that bit of back and forth going on for hours, and since Thalia had arrived while they were talking, which meant only Melpomene and Pitch were left to arrive, they didn't exactly have that kind of time.

"Right, so it's a love stone," Cupid said. "So, obviously it promotes love, but not just romantic love. Self-love, family love, platonic love. It's also supposed to sooth and remove stress."

"Who's it associated with?" Rowan asked.

"Aphrodite," said Cupid. Rowan glanced back at Erato again, remembering that the Muse had mentioned doubling as that Goddess in lore. "Mom's gotten a lot of gifts over the years made of rose quartz."

"Hmm," Rowan said. "Well, thanks for explaining them."

"Yeah, of course," Cupid said, pulling himself to his feet again. "Hope they help."

"They seem to a little," she said. Her eyes wandered from the stones in her hand to the charm of her necklace, resting peacefully against her chest. Blue topaz and diamonds sat securely in the stardust mold. Rowan nearly asked if they had any healing properties.

Before she could utter a word, however, Melpomene appeared with Pitch on her arm and two moonbeams lurking silently nearby. Rowan winced, casting her eyes downward as Pitch glanced her way. Her limited exposure to the Boogie Man was enough for her to want only to lie low around him now. Baby Tooth fluttered back to Tooth's side, seeming to tense with the new arrival.

"Good, we're all here," Calliope said loudly, cutting through the other conversations in progress and immediately pulling the attention to her. "First order of business will be discussing options for covering up the Mortal Muse's disappearance, and then we sort out a solid plan for the full moon."

"Why don't we just stick Mel or Thalia in her place?" Terpsichore said at once.

"Neither of them know her well enough to play the part, we want to downplay suspicion as much as we can," Jack said. Rowan noticed that he sounded bored, as though he'd already explained this before.

"I can be an art student! Watch, watch," Thalia said, putting her mask to her face. When she pulled it away she was the mirror image of Rowan, which left Rowan taken aback. Watching another version of herself a few short feet away was surreal, almost unsettling. After taking a deep breath, Thalia sighed dramatically, leaning against the nearby railing. "Oh my  _God_ , you are all so  _mainstream!_  No one  _understands me!_ The paint is me, okay!  _I am the art!"_

"I'm not a fine artist, I'm an illustrator," Rowan sighed.

"Oh, sorry, forgot," Thalia said, straightening her stance slightly, clearing her throat. "Oh my  _God,_  have you ever even  _heard_  of Rembrandt? You  _disgust_  me. Chiaroscuro! Old masters! Deadlines! There's not blue oil paint on my palette but there's blue oil paint on my brush  _what the hell happened?"_

"Well that's… a little closer," Rowan said. Thalia set her mask to her face and quickly took on her own appearance again. Rowan truly didn't like the idea of any of the Muses pretending to be her and tricking her family and friends. When she got to go home at the end of all this, she would have whatever mess they left for her to clean up.

"Jack and I were discussing earlier and he brought up good points. If Melpomene or Thalia were to take Rowan's place, they would have to attend her classes and produce work, as well," said North. Rowan winced at the idea of someone else turning in work under her name, making comments during critique with her face, and sitting through lectures  _she_  was supposed to be at.

"So we don't go the school route, we go the, 'Rowan Sawyer has fallen tragically ill' route. Gets her an excuse from school and lots of sympathy flowers," Melpomene said, dramatically placing the back of her hand to her forehead as though she felt faint.

"So, what, one of us poses as her and hangs out in a hospital for a while?" Thalia said.

"Essentially," Melpomene nodded. Rowan winced. Right, because  _that_  wouldn't worry her parents at all. She could already see them, taking time off work to sit by "her" bedside and fuss and heckle doctors.

"Okay, no, bad idea," Euterpe said, shaking her head. "You go to the hospital with some mystery illness that'll keep you out of commission for a few weeks and you know what they're gonna do? Run tests. And you know what happens when mortal doctors run tests on  _immortals?_ "

"Really confused mortal doctors," Bunny said, nodding along with what Euterpe was saying. "You'll become a medical mystery."

"We're trying  _not_  to cause a spectacle here and that would definitely be one," Clio said. "I mean, unless we fix the results, which means another one of us, one with medical knowledge—"

"So, probably you or Urania," Erato said.

"Right," Clio said. "One of use would have to stay with whoever was posing as the Mortal Muse and constantly change charts and manipulate doubts away from doctors and nurses. But Urania's always busy playing messenger, especially recently, and I'm doing all this work with the weapons."

"You know what? I don't want either of you," Calliope said, gesturing to Thalia and Melpomene, "Posing as her at all. The Shadow People will be keeping tabs and if we want to use your ability to disguise yourselves as her as bait later on, we can't let them figure out that's our hand to play. Plus, if you're standing in as her, you'll have to be there after dark, it's too risky."

"Too much could go wrong," Tooth agreed.

"Okay, so, then what? We could just go around to her family and friends and inspire them not to worry that she's gone," Terpsichore shrugged.

"We would have to be careful not to forget anyone," Urania pointed out.

"No," Rowan said at once, shaking her head. She felt all eyes fall to her, her heart racing immediately. The thought of her family, friends, anyone who knew her having to go through the same confusion, the same fear she had turned her stomach. "No, I—I can't let you do that."

_"Let_  us?" Clio said, cocking a brow.

"It's adorable when mortals think their power is greater than it actually is," Pitch commented.

"Says the guy defeated by a handful of children," Bunny added. Pitch scowled.

"No! I will not let you manipulate the people in my life," Rowan said, rising on trembling knees. Jack moved closer to her, ready to catch her if she lost her balance.

"If it's necessary, we'll do it," Calliope said. "You should be grateful we're attempting to make it easier for you to go back at all."

"Not if it means they're going to go through what I went through!" Rowan said, her heart was starting to race as she considered this. Thoughts of the overwhelming confusion and terror she'd experienced when she got to the pole came rushing back.

"What you went through? You mean the inspiration to believe in the Guardians again? The inspiration that  _saved your life?"_  Calliope said, stepping before Rowan and staring her down. Rowan tried not to falter beneath the eldest Muse's icy gaze, but Calliope was truly intimidating.

She swallowed, tightening her grip on the crystals in her hand. She could just sit down again, let Calliope do what she wanted, avoid any more conflict. She could just sit down again and try not to think about what had happened the night of the new moon.

She could. She didn't.

"I didn't know what was real and what wasn't! I was convinced I was in a waking dream! It was terrifying! Am I supposed to be grateful for that, grateful that even now I'm not sure what thoughts are mine and what thoughts  _you_  put there?" Rowan demanded, eyes watering as she remembered the terror.

"If it weren't for us you wouldn't be alive to  _be_  afraid, you ungrateful brat!" Calliope snapped. Sandy approached her slowly, giving her an imploring look.

"Ladies, ladies, this is not the time to attack  _each other—"_  North started.

"You know what, North? No, no she's right. You're so right, ' _Sister_ ,' maybe you should just inspire me to be grateful, right now! Do it! After all, my mind's just here to be as useful to all of you as possible, right? And I'm only useful if I'm alive, right?" Rowan said, taking a shaking step forward as though to make it easier for Calliope to touch her. Her hands were trembling now. Calliope only glared. Jack moved with Rowan, sliding his fingers around her arm.

"It's never our intention to get rid of anyone's free will," Polyhymnia said, taking a few steps closer to stand beside Calliope.

"But you  _can!_  That is exactly what they're talking about doing! Manipulating away doubt, manipulating away worry, you can make it so no one  _has_  to think on their own! Do you not understand why that's terrifying?" Rowan said. Her breathing was growing heavier by the second. She could hear her heart pounding.

"We're not gonna go all alien mind control on them, it's just… a little nudge to keep your disappearance from blowing up into something bigger," Thalia said.

"What do I have to say to make it clear?  _Stay the hell away_  from my family and my friends, you've all done enough!" Rowan practically screamed. Panic was rising within her, her pulse drummed wildly.

"I'm  _so_  sorry that keeping you living has inconvenienced you so much," Calliope hissed, stepping closer.

"This isn't living! I know this doesn't matter to you, but no matter what you do, I might be out a semester's worth of tuition. I'm going to lose my job. I'm going to fall behind in my degree. And—and you know, I can't even go to therapy or something to take care of these stupid flashbacks I keep having because I can't tell a professional that  _Shadow People_  tried to kill me—that I almost—that I—" Rowan couldn't finish her thought, her breathing coming in gasps and interrupting her. She saw Calliope's face softened for only a moment before shutting her eyes.

Shadowy grips leaving marks.

Echoing, whispered voices.

Dark faces without features.

A terrible emptiness.

Complete hopelessness.

She opened her eyes and was met only with concerned faces surrounding her, taking cautious steps forward. Her heart raced, her breathing increased, she could feel tears ready to spill.

"Sister, dear," came Polyhymnia's voice.

"The poor girl's  _traumatized_ ,"said Tooth.

"Don't  _crowd_  her, you idiots!" was that Melpomene? Rowan didn't know anymore. It was a sea of mumbling, of "oh, poor thing," of concern, all barely audible behind her desperate gasps for air.

It was starting to happen again.

Rowan felt humiliated. She needed to get out. She had never felt a more intense need to escape a situation before. She was no longer thinking of Shadow People, but rather had one thought, and that was,  _get me out of here, get me out of here, get me out of here._

"Jack," Rowan said weakly, turning to him.

"Deep breaths," he mumbled to her, sliding an arm around her to support her before leading her away from the group, ducking between North and Bunny and down the nearby hallway. They stopped behind a pillar a ways down where she stepped away from him and leaned against the wall, trying desperately to slow her breathing.

"It's going to be okay, Rowan," he said, pushing her hair from her eyes. She dissolved into hacking sobs, sliding down the wall into a seated position.

"Is this going to happen all the time?" she coughed. She felt like she was dying, she was so afraid. The crystals had left indents in her palm from gripping them so tightly.

"No, no," Jack said, sitting down on the floor beside her and sliding an arm around her shoulders. "It'll get easier."

Rowan leaned her head against his shoulder, watching him breathe again, trying to match her own breaths with his. With a quick flick of the wrist, Jack conjured a snowflake and sent it her way, landing softly on her tear-soaked cheek.

Her calculated breaths trembled for a moment as a sense of calm settled within her. Her heart began to slow; she felt a small smile pull at her lips. Things seemed at least a fraction less daunting, less terrifying.

That fraction meant a great deal. It was that much easier to ignore the thoughts of dying. It was that much easier to breathe.

"Thanks," she sighed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm sorry, I probably embarrassed you so much back there."

"What, getting in Calliope's face? I was gonna let you go at her, I thought you were doing great. I was just worried you were gonna fall over in the process," he said with a smile.

"Well, and breaking down in front of them all," Rowan winced.

"Don't worry about it," Jack said. "Let's just sit here for a little while, okay? I'm sure they're thrilled to be able to have at least part of a meeting without me."

"Okay," she nodded.

And so they sat, tucked away into a corner, listening to the distant hum of the activity going on throughout the pole. Voices of those at the meeting could be heard still, muffled by distance as well. Rowan's eyes stayed fixed on Jack's steadily rising and falling chest, focused entirely on matching her breathing to his.

She wasn't sure how long it was until her tears finally dried completely. Every few moments they would start again anew as her mind wandered and she became overwhelmed again.

"You doing all right?" Jack eventually asked.

"I think so," Rowan said.

"Do you want to try to go back to the meeting, or do you want to go back to the room?" he asked. Rowan bit her lip. Her first instinct was to choose the room. She wanted to hide there, away from the other Guardians and the Muses, away from elves that continued to peek around corners to spy in curiosity, away from Yetis that pretended not to notice them as they walked by.

But this part of the meeting was still about her. It was still about her life. She was losing control of so much of it. At least being present at this meeting was the only thing she could really do in an attempt to keep any control over her fate.

"Let's go back to the meeting," she said.

"You're sure?" Jack asked.

He was giving her an out. She could still run away; she could still hide.

"Yeah," Rowan said with a nod. Jack pulled himself to his feet before offering her a hand to do the same. Clinging to his shoulder again, they slowly made their way back toward the platform.

"Again, if you need to get out, I'll get you out," Jack whispered to her as they went.

"I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you here, Jack," Rowan said, wincing slightly as some of the others came into view. She couldn't imagine any of them calming her the way he had managed to. Jack was right when he was speaking to Polyhymnia earlier; he  _was_  the closest thing she had to family here.

"You'd be bored out of your mind," he smiled. She couldn't help smiling back.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," he said, gently pecking her forehead before they rejoined the group, in the middle of scattered, separate discussions. Rowan settled into her chair again, painfully aware of the amount of eyes on her as she went.

"Are you all right?" Tooth asked gently, the first of the others to approach them.

"I think so," Rowan said, combing her fingers through her hair and beginning to pull three small strands into a braid.

"Good," Tooth smiled. "We called an intermission, it's just about to wrap up."

"You guys didn't have to do that," Jack said.

"Well, we're discussing the full moon once we sort things out with Rowan and  _you're_  our Burgess expert, so," Tooth shrugged. "I think we all needed a bit of a break after that, uh, disagreement, anyway."

"All right, it would seem we're all back now," Calliope said loudly, drawing everyone's attention. The beings in the room shuffled about, returning to their earlier positions so that everyone could properly be seen. Before Calliope could utter another word, there was a sharp, high-pitched shriek, leaving everyone to gaze curiously in Euterpe's direction.

The young Muse watched North with wide eyes, her hands having covered her mouth the moment she had screamed.

"What is it?" Erato said.

"North, there is a huge spider hanging by your head," Euterpe practically whined, pointing at the man. Everyone turned once again to find that there was, indeed, a spider dangling a few inches away from North's ear.

"Ah! Hello there, do you have a report back for me?" North said to the spider cheerfully, offering a finger for the spider to climb onto.

"E, that thing is literally two inches tall. Maybe," Terpsichore said to Euterpe, who cringed at the sight of North touching the creature.

"Is it important? We are about to resume our meeting," North said to the spider. It seemed that it was, for North held the spider closer to his ear and stepped away from the group in order to listen closer.

"Well,  _sorry_ , not all of us grew up  _down unda'_  where the house spiders are the size of small dogs," Euterpe shuddered.

"Spiders are the least of your worries there," Bunny laughed.

"Why are you okay with Arachne but not with those little guys?" Thalia said.

"I don't like little creatures that can hide and sneak up on you and be creepy crawly nightmare fuel," Euterpe said.

"You know, this is the most fun I've had at one of these meetings," Pitch commented to Melpomene, who simply smiled.

"You see, you rushing out of here is definitely not the strangest thing that's happened, tonight," Jack leaned over to whisper to Rowan.

"Do all the meetings go like this?" she asked.

"This one's a  _bit_  more chaotic than usual," he shrugged.

"I have news," North announced as he returned to the group with a frown. Those at the platform fell silent again, waiting for him to continue. "My sources tell me that Rowan has already been reported missing."

"Already?" Rowan said, wincing as she thought of her parents and how worried they certainly were. "I—I thought we'd still be okay, that we'd still have some time…"

"I am afraid so. The police have been contacted, people are searching for you," North said apologetically. "When I had your apartment checked, the police were searching it."

Jack swore under his breath and Rowan slumped in her seat, burying her face in her hands. Did they think she ran away? Did they think she was kidnapped? How had they even decided to report her missing in the first place? She had only missed one day of school!

"Well, so much for this not becoming a spectacle," Bunny said.

"It might still stay pretty low-key, it's always missing  _children_  that get the most press coverage," Melpomene said.

"So what do we do now? I guess we don't have to cover up her disappearance anymore," Terpsichore said.

"We're going to work with this," Calliope said, turning her attention back to Rowan, who only reluctantly made eye contact. "You're going to stay missing. We're going to take you back when this is all over, and when they ask where you were, you're going to tell them that you don't remember."

"That's it, I just disappeared and forgot where I went and what happened?" Rowan said. Jack gently set a hand to her shoulder.

"Will they believe you left of your own free will?" Calliope asked, cocking a brow.

"No," Rowan said at once. Her car was still at the apartment. Her wallet, her computer, her phone were all there too, if the police hadn't seized them for the investigation, which they probably had. If she had planned to leave she wouldn't have attended a week of classes first.

"Then you tell them that you don't remember what happened or where you were. Because if we come up with a cover story, they'll investigate and find out you're lying soon enough. So, you say you don't remember, and then you can tell them about your flashbacks and it will lead them to dead ends and confuse them. But you'll get whatever treatment you want or need to cope with it, without giving too many details. They'll decide something terrible happened and that you blocked it out; it was too traumatic. They'll just be glad you're home," Calliope said. Rowan furrowed her brow, completely puzzled that Calliope had even bothered taking into account her earlier comments about therapy.

Calliope addressed the others. "Unless someone has a better idea."

When no one offered an alternative, she nodded. "It's decided, then. Rowan Sawyer is missing and will remain missing until she can be safely returned. Now, the next order of business: the full moon."


	55. Love and War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Once again, I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long. I realized I had only updated once in August and I felt really bad. I never expected this chapter to take so long. As I alluded to last chapter, my depression's kind of kicking my ass and making it hard to work on hardly anything. I thought I was in a better place and ready to work more when I posted the last one and it just wasn't happening. This chapter sat half-done day after day.
> 
> I started working on writing that wasn't related to this at all, just some for-fun things with my friend and I think it helped me out a lot.
> 
> Then last week I went to the library to try and work and something magical happened. Their wifi was down. What the hell, right? With no distractions I finally sat and finished this chapter. It just poured out, I haven't written so easily in months. I have a lot of ideas for drawings (and I did manage to power through and finish my Jack and Rowan dolls and a Twilight parody poster, check out my deviantART and tumblr if you'd like to see). Right now I'm doing okay, and hopefully it's going to continue and I won't make you guys wait so long for the next chapter. Hope you enjoy this one, let me know what you think.

_"Sounds an awful lot like playing God to me. We have responsibilities."_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Five: Love and War**

* * *

"Right. So, the basic plan right now is to lure the Shadow People to Burgess the night of the full moon, and eliminate as many of them as possible until they are no longer a threat," Bunny said.

"To eliminate enough that they're no longer a threat, we'll have to lure almost all, if  _not_  all of them there," Cupid said, seeming more comfortable speaking now that battle was the topic. "I'm going to ask again: how exactly are we going to  _do_  that?"

"We're going to use Thalia and Melpomene as bait, disguised as the Mortal Muse. With two of them we'll hopefully be able to confuse and disorient the Shadow People while we take care of them," Clio said. "But, you're right. There's still the issue of getting all of them there, we can't just hope they'll all show up because Mel and Thalia are pretending to be Rowan there."

"We can pretend to be moving her to safer location. Put Muse disguised as Rowan on a train to Burgess. They will be keeping tabs, by the time she gets to Burgess it will be nightfall and word will have spread," North said. Jack glanced back down at Rowan, who seemed only slightly relieved at the change of topic. Preparing for what was basically a battle was still not exactly a  _fun_  thing to discuss. He gently squeezed her shoulder again.

"That still might just be a small fraction that shows up. They won't have time to organize a bigger attack and who knows if they'll risk it on a full moon. We need as many of them in Burgess as we can possibly get," Cupid said.

"Plus, it doesn't make any sense that we would just ship Rowan off on her own, full moon or not," Thalia pointed out.

"We'll go too, we'll pretend to be traveling with her," Terpsichore said, gesturing to herself and Euterpe. "It's some kind of protection they have to get past and it'll sweeten the deal if they think they can feed on us when they're done with Rowan."

"You'll need new clothes to blend in with the mortals," Polyhymnia said. She had a point, while Euterpe might be able to get away with her ensemble, rock 'n roll and obnoxious as it was, if she simply added a thicker coat, Terpsichore's midriff-baring top and short skirt would draw too much attention in the northern hemisphere in winter.

"Right, don't need people staring and then realizing you're traveling with a missing person," Calliope said.

"I'll talk to Arachne," said Thalia. "Mel and I need clothes to wear when we're pretending to be Rowan anyway."

"Okay, but there's still the whole, 'getting them to Burgess' thing," Tooth said with a frown.

"While they're more organized than we initially thought, I doubt they'll be willing or able to plan such a large attack on the full moon on such short notice," Pitch said. Jack barely had a moment to wonder if the Boogeyman was attempting to sound bored on  _purpose_  or not before an idea seemed to fall into his head. Eyes lighting up, he glanced toward the hand still on Rowan's shoulder and smiled.

"So, we give them time to plan a bigger attack," Jack said. Rowan was suddenly eying his hand on her shoulder as well.

"What do you mean?" North said.

"We're going to leak the information. Let them know that the Mortal Muse is going to be in Burgess on the full moon. Make it known that if they attack with all their numbers, they'll be able to actually get her this time," said Jack.

"How are we going to do that, anonymous letter? If any of us leak that information, it's going to be too obvious a trap," Urania said.

Jack shook his head, focusing his attention on Pitch. "Not if he does it."

Several of those standing about the platform, including a few passing yetis, cringed at the idea. Bunny seemed to be trying to find the right words to respond. Pitch seemed amused. "Oh?"

"You're going to go to them and make a deal. Like you did with us. Ask for their protection and an alliance against the Guardians in exchange for information," Jack said. "Let them know they can win if they attack with  _all_  their manpower at once. Make sure they're all ready to attack, don't let them know we'll be ready for them, too."

"I can certainly do that," Pitch said with a smile.

North sighed and reluctantly said, "It does seem like our best bet right now to get them all there."

"Are we  _really_  going to let Pitch cut a deal with the Shadow People? Does  _no one else_  see how that could go terribly wrong for us?" Bunny demanded.

"I agree, it's risky, I don't trust him," Calliope said, glancing Bunny's way but briefly. Jack found himself wondering why they didn't get along better, they seemed to agree rather frequently when it came to matters such as this.

"I'll go with him," Melpomene said.

"Oh, good, that makes us feel  _much_  better," Euterpe said.

"I need the Shadow People taken care of," Pitch said, clearly exhausted with having to explain this yet again. "They're interfering with my work more than they're interfering with any of yours. For once, we are on the same page.  _That is why I'm here."_

"That and to save your own arse," Bunny mumbled.

"Don't forget I was voted in," Pitch said.

"Don't forget not all of us voted in favor of that," Bunny retorted, casting Jack an annoyed glance. Jack simply rolled his eyes.

"Fine, how about this: Does anyone have a  _better_  idea to get the majority of the Shadow People to one specific location on one specific night?" Erato said, arms crossed and watching the others expectantly. Glances were exchanged, fidgeting was done, throats were cleared.

A few opened their mouths as though to speak but quickly shut them again, brows furrowed. No alternative was presented.

"Fine. Pitch leaks enough information to get them there,  _no more than that,"_  North said with great emphasis.

"Fine," Pitch said.

"Okay, but there's still some logistics that aren't going to work out," Cupid said. "If this works out, with five Guardians, me, seven Muses, and Pitch working against them… we're going to be out-numbered a couple hundred to one if we're  _lucky."_

"Will Burgess even hold that many of them? What if we're putting the entire town at risk?" Tooth asked.

"Well, we'll have to stay away from the residential areas," Bunny said.

"Just past the water tower is a bunch of open space, we can go there," Jack said. "Burgess isn't that busy after nightfall anyway, it's like the whole town's got a bedtime, there's nothing to do after eight. And it'll be Sunday so everything's going to close even earlier."

"The pond is where most of the lunar magic is concentrated, it'd probably be better to take care of this there," Urania said. Jack shook his head.

"It's way too close to the residents," Rowan said. Jack was sure she was thinking of how close the body of water was to her aunt's house. He suddenly found himself wondering how Jamie was taking the news of Rowan's disappearance and cringed slightly at the thought.

This had all gotten really out of hand.

"As long as we're somewhere nearby it should still work," Calliope said. "That being said, I want something done about any security cameras nearby, we don't need any mortals confused about anything that might happen."

"Well, I  _could_  block the lenses with nightmare sand. But, of course, I need dream sand to do that," Pitch said.

Sandy sighed, clearly irritated before a few images flashed above his head.

"He says fine, but don't get used to it," said Bunny.

"What about Shadow People sneaking off to the residential areas anyway?" Clio asked.

Sandy conjured up the image of a house with dream sand before a twirling barrier of sand spun around the house to protect it.

"Yes, put barrier around the residents, but wait until the last possible moment, must not give ourselves away too early," North said.

"Still leaves the problem of taking care of  _all_  of them," Euterpe said, bringing the focus back to Cupid's earlier concern.

"Have dealt with large numbers before, and will not just be us, I will bring along some of my most skilled yetis as well," North said with a nod.

"I'll bring some of my egg statues, too," Bunny said. Sandy conjured up a dream sand horse, complete with dream sand knight. "And Sandy can easily make more troops."

"You should make a battle elephant," Tooth said softly to Sandy, who seemed delighted at the idea, quickly conjuring up a large, dream sand elephant decked out in armor.

"We'll still be out-numbered and some of us are more skilled in fighting than others," Terpsichore said.

"Right, I'm going to mostly be an eye in the sky," Calliope said. "Melpomene and Thalia will be great to disorient them and maybe even keep them in the proper location but as far as combat goes… not so much."

"The moonbeams will be their strongest that night, though, and Tsar Lunar's asked me to direct them," Urania said. "And we don't have to worry about cloud cover weakening them or anything because we've got Mr. North Wind over here." She gestured to Jack.

"Right. And for the record, anyone fighting who can fly, I want you all to  _keep_  flying the entirety of this conflict. It's one of the advantages we've got over them and I don't want any casualties on our side," Calliope said.

"Pitch can keep an eye on things on the ground, just lie low and see if you can figure out if their tactics are changing," Clio said.

"Right," Pitch said with a sigh.

"With the moonbeams and Sandy's dream creatures, we might be able to pull this off, I just wish we had a back-up plan in case we get overwhelmed," Tooth said.

"Well…" Clio said, eying Bunny nervously. He winced. The others watched the two expectantly. Urania seemed nervous as well, as though she knew something the others didn't.

"What?" North asked.

"We sort of started drafts for a weapon while we were collecting stardust," Bunny said, forcing his tone to remain casual.

"A weapon that could, uh, potentially destroy most of the Shadow People in one go. If it works right," Clio elaborated, making eye contact with Calliope at last.

"And you didn't say anything before?" Calliope said, irritation clear in her face.

"What is it?" Tooth asked.

"More or less a, uh, stardust bomb," Bunny said, clearing his throat nervously.

"A  _bomb?"_  Polyhymnia said, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I've been silent this whole time but I have to say something. I absolutely do not approve of  _any_  of this. I do not approve of wiping out a group of magical beings by surprise attack. I do not approve of all this violence we are planning and I certainly do not approve of  _dropping a bomb_  on them! I thought that we were supposed to be working toward the greater good!"

"If we don't do anything they're just going to cause more destruction, it'll be safer for  _everyone_  this way, they have the potential to do so much damage," Euterpe said.

"So we destroy them before they can destroy us? So  _we_  cause destruction instead? For crimes they have the  _potential_  of committing? Sounds an awful lot like playing God to me. We have responsibilities," Polyhymnia said. It was quickly becoming clear that this Muse was not about to let this drop.

"We have responsibilities to keep the  _mortals_  safe," North said.

"Granted, that's in order to keep  _us_  alive," Melpomene added with a small smirk.

"They pose a very real threat to the mortals, we already know this, we know they are gaining strength and are already affecting people," Bunny said, gesturing to the slowly turning globe, lights still dimming in areas.

"So we go to war?" Polyhymnia said. "War with our kind can be so much more dangerous for  _everyone!"_

"Yes. They have actively tried to destroy the Mortal Muse,  _part of this alliance_. That is an act of  _war,"_  North said.

Jack fidgeted uncomfortably. A few of the others did too. The word "war" hadn't actually been used to describe what exactly it was they were doing before.

But that's exactly what it was, wasn't it? There hadn't been any formal declarations, but they were preparing for a battle they hoped would end the conflict. They were going to war.

Jack had not quite expected this.

"I wish there was another way, too, Poly," Tooth said with a frown. "But there's no talking to them. Jack and I were just  _observing_  them and they attacked."

"Wiping them out though?" Polyhymnia said.

"Not  _all_  of them. Just, you know,  _most_  of them. Enough that they can't hurt anything," Jack said. He truly didn't know how  _he_  felt about having a bomb at their disposal. He'd seen enough mortal wars to know how terribly that could end.

But they needed this to end terribly. For the Shadow People, at least.

"So why don't we  _just_  use the bomb? It sounds more efficient, we don't have to risk our necks," Terpsichore asked.

"Well, here's the thing. The bomb isn't just harmful to the Shadow People. It can hurt  _us_ , too, the same way a stardust blade could easily hurt any of us," Clio said.

"I saw the plans. The flash it creates could cause blindness if you're looking directly into it," Urania said, arms crossed and looking entirely uncomfortable as the bomb was discussed further. "And the force is incredibly strong. It's not just magical beings that would be at risk if it went off, mortals too."

"It's why we didn't bring it up before," Bunny said. "We're confident we could do it, but we're not sure about risking the damage that comes along with it."

_"If_  we were to use it, we'd have to make sure everyone had time to take cover and look away," Clio said.

"You're all going to do what you want regardless of what I say. I will just say once more, I think that we're better than this. I think that we should be able to solve our problems without such chaos," Polyhymnia said before taking a seat.

"So. To bomb, or not to bomb?" Melpomene asked. "That is the question."

"Whether 'tis nobler to push forth swift suffering, or to take arms against a sea of shadows," Thalia said before adding, "Paraphrased and modified for the situation, of course."

"I think it should be our back-up plan," Terpsichore said.

"An absolute, last resort," Tooth added. There were soft murmurs of agreement throughout the pole. Polyhymnia remained seated, her posture perfect and not making a sound.

"Can you two finish it in time?" Calliope asked. Clio and Bunny glanced each others way briefly before nodding.

"If North lends a hand," Bunny said. "Definitely."

"I will help," North said.

"It will be a last resort, then."

The rest of the meeting was not quite as tense or morally conflicting. There were further discussions of the exact location, strategies discussed for removing injured parties from battle and retrieving arrows once Cupid ran out. It was decided that there would be another meeting the day of the full moon, to touch bases one last time before everything was finally put into action.

When the meeting closed, Jack offered Rowan a hand, which she gladly took in order to stand upright again. It was nice to see that her eyes were still behaving normally since Bunny had given her that tea to fix them, but she still trembled as she secured her arms around him to keep steady.

As they began walking, slowly and cautiously, toward the guest room she was staying in, Jack barely took note of Bunny approaching Pitch.

* * *

Melpomene was speaking with Pitch in hushed tones. Bunny's ears twitched, hearing her mention the Shadow People and how exactly they were supposed to negotiate with them when they could not speak unless it was the new moon. Pitch was confident he would be able to communicate with them regardless.

"Pitch," Bunny said, interrupting the two.

"Oh, what is it now, Rabbit?" Pitch sighed, begrudgingly turning his attention away from Melpomene in order to better focus on Bunny.

"Another question about the Shadow People," Bunny said, glancing briefly after Jack as he helped Rowan along. Pitch followed the pooka's gaze, smiling softly when he saw the couple.

"About  _her_  and the Shadow People," Pitch said, still smiling.

"Can we expect her to recover from this?" said Bunny, eyes narrowing at Pitch's expression, still more cheerful than he liked. Bunny turned when he heard approaching footsteps and found North taking a place beside him to hear this as well.

"This hasn't ever happened," Pitch shrugged.

"She seems to be improving, though, doesn't she?" Melpomene asked, looking back after the couple again.

"Her pain has improved slightly, as has her energy, but not much else," North said. "Her vision only improved because of Bunny's remedy."

"Another attack in this state would kill her for sure," Pitch said. "Even a mild one. As far as her continued recovery, I have no idea. She might not  _ever_  fully recover from this, physically or emotionally. She's still just a mortal, after all."

"It's going to haunt her for a long time, at the very least," Melpomene said. Pitch nodded.

"So, what do we tell Jack?" Bunny said, more to North than anyone else.

"I'll figure something out," said North.

* * *

The next morning, despite having fallen asleep almost immediately after the meeting, Rowan had dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes. It was hard not to notice as she sat upright in bed, pulling a hairbrush clumsily through her hair and yawning the entire way.

"Are you sure you'll be okay if I leave?" Jack asked her, eyes still fixed on her. She seemed to hesitate a moment before slowly nodding.

"I can't keep you around all the time because I'm scared—" she started.

"You're not keeping me anywhere," he said. That was sort of true, at least. She wasn't keeping him there in the sense that she didn't need to  _ask_  for him to stay behind and keep an eye on her. Any time he'd left her side since the new moon, he found himself wishing he were with her instead, just to know for certain that she was all right.

Her panic attacks hadn't exactly helped. She had already had two within two days and he wasn't sure how she would manage a third on her own.

"Okay, but you should still go. Make it snow before Mother Nature finds out you've been slacking," Rowan said. She was trying and failing to take on a teasing tone, he could tell she still felt guilty about being the reason he had been skipping on those responsibilities.

"You know winter existed before I did, right?" Jack said, offering her a smile as she set the hairbrush aside.

"I just don't want kids to stop believing in you or something," she said with a wince. "Plus, I mean… maybe while you're out you could, um… do me a favor?"

"What's the favor?"

"Check on my parents?" she asked. "Make sure they're not giving themselves a heart attack each over this? I'm sure they are, but…" She sighed, glancing down and pulling three small strands of hair into a braid.

"I'll check on them," Jack said, already planning to send a few magic snowflakes their way once he did. They had fussed over Rowan a great deal when they knew where she was; the fact that she was missing probably  _was_  terrifying them on a whole new level.

"Thank you."

"And you're  _sure_  you'll be okay?" he asked her again.

"I think so," she said. "I'm probably going to go back to sleep, anyway."

"You only got up about fifteen minutes ago," Jack said, brow furrowed. He had woken up before her, several  _hours_  before her, actually. His mind had been restless the night before with thoughts of everything that had been discussed at the meeting. A year ago he had never dreamed he would be a Guardian, much less involved with someone's disappearance and magical warfare.

It was a lot to take in. He wanted this whole thing to be over and done with already.

"I know," Rowan said, yawning again. She rubbed at her eyes. "I'm just really tired."

"Can you still see okay?"

"Yeah," she said with a slight nod.

"All right," he said, finally standing upright, getting up from his seat on the bed. He leaned over, pressing his lips to hers briefly. "Sooner I leave, sooner I come back."

"I'll be here," she sighed, glancing around the room briefly. It wasn't as if she had a choice.

"I love you," he said, smiling as a soft smile came to her face at the statement.

"I love you, too," she said.

As he stepped toward the door, she was already shifting her position in the bed, adjusting the covers and resting her head. He closed the door gently behind him and immediately kicked off the ground toward the opening in the ceiling.

"Let's make quick work of this, wind!" he called, darting through the air and leaving flurries in his wake.

* * *

There was only so much one could toss and turn in bed, failing to get comfortable, failing to fall asleep, before giving up entirely. Rowan groaned softly. How long had Jack been gone? Twenty minutes? Two hours? Time almost didn't exist here, where it was dark outside all the time and the dim light of the fire never went out.

Her eyes begged her to stay closed. Her limbs ached whenever she moved, demanding she stay still. That of all should lend itself to sleep. And yet, she could not do that.

She kept thinking about her parents, her mother crying, her father trying not to do the same. How terrified they had to be that she was gone, the fact that she couldn't do anything to let them know that she was all right (in a manner of speaking, she was alive at least) and that they shouldn't worry about her.

Rowan was alive and her parents didn't have the luxury of knowing that for sure. But then again, she didn't have the luxury of knowing for sure that she was going to  _stay_  that way for much longer.

Logically, she knew she was safe at the pole. But there were still whispers of death lingering in the back of her mind.

None of this would allow her to rest enough to finally sleep again.

Grabbing for the canvas bag, Rowan sloppily dressed herself, using every bit of concentration she had. She couldn't keep lying here, torturing herself with dark thoughts and waiting for another panic attack, Jack's return, or sleep to finally kick in. After tying her boots' laces and sliding the crystals into her hoodie pocket, she took a few uneasy steps to the door of the guest room and pulled it open.

She leaned against the wall to keep herself steady as she made her way into the rest of the pole. The yetis going by spared her passing glances but did not try to stop her, which she was concerned might happen. She just needed to get out of the room, clear her mind, not have to deal with the Guardians or the Muses or any of the aftermath of the new moon for just a little while. The yetis didn't seem to think she was going to do much harm to herself in this state.

She hadn't walked all that far when she stopped at the platform near the globe and carefully approached one of the railings, finally having an opportunity to really stop and admire the globe for the first time. There wasn't anything else that needed her attention.

But that sense of wonder that had been there every time she had spared a passing glance for it before was not there. The globe was great, it was large and beautiful and magnificent. Rowan took note of and appreciated every little detail, every hand crafted piece that came together to make this grand display. But the joy that should have been there as she appreciated and took in this object was nowhere to be found.

Rowan frowned as she tried to recall the last time she had been genuinely happy. She couldn't think of an instance since the new moon. Everything seemed to be laced with terror and sadness. The closest she'd come to real joy was the sense of comfort or relief that Jack inspired in her when he was around.

But she had not been happy, just less sad.

Jack brought her a sketchbook and her notebook. Again, logically she knew that it was a good thing, a thoughtful and wonderful thing that he'd brought these things for her. But she hadn't had a single urge to work on her stories or a drawing since she got to the pole. She had tried to brainstorm something, anything, and had no such luck.

There wasn't all that much that mattered at that moment, it seemed.

Rowan stepped away from the globe, feeling disappointment as she went.

Her movements were still pained and she wondered how long she would be able to walk before she finally grew tired of the way her joints cried out and stopped. How long before she finally became too exhausted?

Yetis worked on ice prototypes. Elves followed her for a few paces out of curiosity before growing bored and wandering off to test out a toy. Toy gears cried out, tools scraped and brushed against various materials. At one point there was the strong smell of paint in the air.

Rowan couldn't find it in herself to react to any of this. She couldn't be delighted at the designs or the paint. She couldn't be amused at the elves trailing her. She couldn't be curious about the yetis and their methods for toy building.

It all just made her heart sink just a little further.

She missed when magic was fun.

When she approached a nearby hall, she paused, finding it to be familiar. She'd been here before, but when? A half-hearted smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the New Years Eve Ball. This was where she and Jack had waited for one of the yetis to get them a snow globe so that they could leave.

Rowan remembered the way her heart raced, the excitement she had felt when Jack had kissed her the moment the yeti had disappeared through the door. Then there was the amusement she had felt when the yeti had returned, annoyed.

Those feelings seemed so out of reach.

Rowan set a hand to the doorknob, taking note that the door was not currently being guarded. That must have been a practice only in place for the ball. A quick glance around the area proved that no one was paying her any mind and she stepped inside, finding the door unlocked. She closed it behind her.

Inside was a storage area with shelves so high she could hardly see where they ended. There was a step ladder, with steps so far apart only the yetis or North could properly make use of it. The ornate snow globes sat securely on their shelves, cradled on stands to keep them from rolling off.

Rowan gently grabbed for one, picking it up and wincing slightly as she went, as though waiting for an alarm to be triggered. None was. Taking a seat on one of the steps of the ladder, she examined the orb in her hands, finding nothing inside but twirling snow.

She could leave. She had seen Jack use these before, and according to his stories Sophie had used one to get to Bunny's warren by accident. If Sophie could figure it out then Rowan surely could. All she had to do was say where she wanted to be, toss it forward.

Rowan sighed. She knew she couldn't do that. The second she left, the Shadow People would be keeping tabs on her again, and the moon was still much less than full. Not to mention, the Guardians and Muses would surely bring her back right away.

It would be pointless.

"I just want to go home," she groaned, closing her tired eyes and rubbing at them again. When she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly, glancing down at the snow globe again. Inside was the image of her parents' house, all the Christmas decorations having been taken down.

She lifted the snow globe and peered closer inside, finding that she could see movement in the window of her father's office. There was a shadow of a man that had to be her father pacing back and forth there, talking on the phone.

Biting her lip, Rowan whispered her apartment address and the snow swirled until the image of her apartment building appeared in the globe. She spoke the school's name next and saw campus, students walking about and heading to class.

She could see how everyone was doing just with a mumbled command. Rowan glanced at the door, suddenly worried that someone would walk in. She wasn't going to  _steal_  the globe exactly, she was just going to borrow it. Just so she could at least  _look_  at her home while she was stuck here.

She went to stuff the globe in her pocket, finding that it seemed to immediately disappear, her hoodie pocket still as flat as it had been before. Brow furrowed, Rowan reached inside the pocket only to find that she was easily able to pull the snow globe out again.

She did this again, several more times, the globe seeming to disappear in order to not take up so much room each time it entered her pocket. She imagined that was how North was able to bring so many with him when he went anywhere. Vaguely impressed, Rowan finally let the globe disappear into her pocket before silently slipping outside the room again.

She wondered how long it would be before North figured out she had taken something of his and if he would be mad. She didn't know him well enough to say.

Rowan found herself stopping more and more as she walked, her legs still protesting with each step she took. She was beginning to wonder if taking a walk around the pole was really the best idea. It still seemed better than sitting in the guest room she'd been given and waiting.

"Rowan?"

There were footsteps. They clicked in such a way that told Rowan the person was wearing heels, and the voice was familiar. When she turned she saw Erato approaching, smile on her face.

"Decided to go for a walk?" the Muse said, slowing to a stop beside her.

"Mmhm," was Rowan's mumbled response. She'd forgotten that Erato and Polyhymnia were stuck at the pole, too. She hadn't expected and certainly hadn't wanted to run into any of the Muses when she decided to leave the room.

"You seem tired, do you want to sit down in my room for a while?" Erato asked, stepping past her to open the nearby door. Rowan frowned at the idea and was about to decline when she caught Erato's eyes. They were that same fuchsia as Cupid's, and had that same quality about them that made her feel comfortable, safe.

Memories of the new moon told her not to trust Erato, not to trust  _any_  of the Muses. But something in her gut trusted Erato. Something in her mind  _wanted_  to trust her so badly, like some kind of instinct.

And so, without a word, Rowan found herself walking through the doorway on trembling legs before taking a seat at the foot of the bed inside. Erato walked through after, taking a seat beside her.

The guest room that Erato had been given was not much different from Rowan's. It had all the same things: a bed, a dresser, an armoire, and an armchair. Erato had turned the surface of the dresser into a vanity of sorts, covered in various cosmetics and brushes. There were several suitcases set in the corner, all deep red and sturdy. One of the suitcases was open, showcasing a collection of different stockings and garters.

"I had Cupid bring me by some things," Erato said, taking note as Rowan examined her various belongings. "He, of course, grumbled about it the whole way, doesn't understand why I  _need_  all this, but it does get a bit slow around here, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Rowan said, eying the makeup again. She furrowed her brow when she realized that Erato had foundation in numerous shades, not just the fair color with pink undertones that she obviously used on herself. "Why do you have makeup that doesn't match your skin tone?"

"Oh, well, sometimes the other Muses humor me and let me do their makeup. They don't all love it as much as I do but I just think it's so fun," Erato said. Her eyes lit up, suddenly focusing all her attention on Rowan. "Oh! Can I do yours?"

Rowan set a hand to her face, suddenly realizing that she hadn't worn any makeup since the new moon. She didn't tend to wear a lot, but she did like to have it. She examined Erato's face, taking note of the cat eye eyeliner, rouge, and carefully applied red lipstick. It was classic pin-up.

"Sure," Rowan said hesitantly. Erato grinned, getting up and grabbing various items from the dresser, glancing back Rowan's way every few moments when debating over certain colors before returning to her side. Rowan pulled her hair back, fastening it into the elastic band around her wrist.

"Jack run off?" Erato asked, pulling off her long, red gloves to reveal a half-moon red manicure. She gently began to apply concealer below Rowan's eyes.

"Yeah, just for a little while. It's still winter and all," Rowan winced slightly as she came in contact with Erato. She braced herself but found that nothing about her thoughts seemed to change.

"I have to say, I didn't think much of him before this whole ordeal," Erato said, gently blending the concealer with the tip of her finger. Her voice was pleasant, not the least bit intimidating. Rowan found herself relaxing slightly, closing her eyes as Erato continued her work. "But I misjudged him."

"Yeah?" Rowan said.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, he's still one of the more frustrating people I've met, but he's stepped up a lot with this," Erato said.

"I've been lucky to have him around," Rowan acknowledged. While it was unsettling to consider how heavily she relied on Jack, it was even more so to consider how she would be coping with any of this if he weren't around.

"We all have, though, don't tell him I said that. I would hate to shatter his delusion that all the Muses hate him with a fiery passion." There was a hint of a smile in Erato's voice.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rowan said, forcing a smile as well. Erato was brushing on foundation now.

"He and Cupid didn't make as many jokes about each other last meeting. Starting to wonder if they aren't beginning to get along," the Muse said. At the mention of Cupid, Rowan remembered an earlier conversation with Erato, during the ball.

"You never did tell me about when he was born," Rowan said, opening her eyes again. Finally, she felt curious about something, interested.

"Oh, that's a good story," Erato said, sounding delighted. "Though, I have to tell you how I died in order to tell it, if that's all right with you."

"Sure," said Rowan, realizing that she didn't know a lot of the Muses' stories in that respect.

"Well, when I was mortal, I was very well-liked," the Muse said with a smile, eyes still focused on the makeup. "I had suitors from all over. Men performed grand gestures and offered great treasures hoping to win my hand. People wrote the most beautiful of poetry for me. But there was something shallow about it. I could feel that the love they had was not  _quite_  for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I inspired the love and passion within them, and the passion to create based on these feelings. They projected this inspiration on to me, decided it must be  _me_  they loved. It didn't happen to everyone I accidentally inspired, but it happened quite a lot," said Erato with a shrug. "There's only so many strangers that can insist they're madly in love without speaking a word to you before you start to become skeptical."

"That sounds overwhelming," Rowan said. She supposed it was a nice notion to have so many people pining for your affections, but in practice, it had to be exhausting.

"Oh, it was. And I never felt the same spark for any of them. That is, until the war my town had been involved in was over and the warriors came home victorious. There was one in particular that caught my eye, and I caught his. He was strong and so, so beautiful, with dark hair and dimples. It wasn't long before I came to fully understand all the love poems that had been written for me, all the grand gestures. I loved being near him, talking to him, hearing his voice. I especially loved when he smiled, he had the most beautiful smile," Erato said. Her tone had taken on a sort of dreamy quality as she recalled her first love, eyes taking on a certain sparkle.

"Was he as impressed with you as the other suitors had been?" Rowan had to ask.

"It took him a little while longer to come around. He was reluctant, you see, because… well, it's just typical, isn't it? I have all these other people to choose from, men  _and_  women looking for my attention, and I fall for a married man," Erato sighed. Rowan winced again at the thought. "His wife never did anything to wrong me up to that point, but at that time I hated her, I despised her with every fiber of my being for daring to be married to him. We began an affair and I swear I felt a sick sense of satisfaction every time I went to bed with him, like I was 'winning' somehow, that I was somehow better than his wife. I truly am ashamed of the way I regarded her then."

Rowan did take note of a change in Erato's tone as she spoke of this part of her past. She had seemed nothing but elated when speaking of her lover, but now seemed almost embarrassed as she spoke of their betrayal to his wedding vows, deliberately avoiding Rowan's eye as she applied powder to set the foundation.

"It's a terrible thing, how competitive we as women can get with each other," Erato said. Rowan winced again, thinking back to how she'd compared herself with Melpomene in the past. "But I was in love, that's all I cared about. That was all that mattered. He was going to leave her; we were going to run away together. We had it all planned out so that we could leave town and go far, far away where no one knew us, get married and have a family. We had a night set aside, he was going to come get me, and we would slip away into the darkness. I had realized earlier that day that I was pregnant and I couldn't wait to share the news with him, though it meant that we would have to get married sooner than anticipated."

Rowan had a bad feeling about this as she closed her eyes to allow Erato to begin filling in her eyebrows and applying eye shadow.

"But when our designated time came, it wasn't my grand warrior that arrived at my door, but his wife. She barged inside and called me every terrible name you can imagine, told me that he wasn't coming. I told her that he would, that he loved me, not her. That's when she told me that he wouldn't be going anywhere, except straight to hell. She threw this tiny, empty vial at me and told me all about how she'd put the whole thing, a strong poison, in his drink. He was gone. Just like that, my brave warrior taken down by his evening drink," Erato said. The way she spoke was not pained, but rather with a vague sadness. It had been centuries, Rowan supposed. It likely didn't sting as much now as it had before.

"She kept screaming at me, I don't remember what she said, I was still trying to process the fact that he was dead and that I was alone and pregnant. It didn't matter, though, because before I could fully comprehend what was happening, she had a dagger in my heart, and I collapsed. The last thing I remember hearing was her screaming that if we wanted each other so badly, we could burn for eternity together," Erato said. Rowan remembered now that Thalia had mentioned Erato referring to herself and several of the other Muses that had been murdered as the "Slaughterhouse Five."

"When I came back a year later, I learned that she killed herself shortly after that. It was a huge scandal, people miles and miles away heard about the wife that killed her husband and his mistress before killing herself as well. The fact that I was already somewhat infamous for my number of suitors hadn't helped, in fact in their eyes it only confirmed rumors that I had been sleeping around with all of them," Erato said, shaking her head slightly at the notion. "I was sure I was no longer pregnant and tried to cope with all my losses and learn to be a Muse. It was just Calliope, Clio and I at that point."

"But you  _were_  still pregnant?" Rowan asked, daring not open her eyes as Erato carefully brushed on liquid eyeliner.

"Yes, Apollo thought that my pregnancy upon my death was simply a  _marvelous_  opportunity. He and Tsar Lunar collaborated and in order to assure that Cupid would be immortal, but still age enough so that he would actually be born, his aging was slowed considerably. One year for every century that passes. As a result, I was pregnant for about seventy-five years. I didn't realize until several years into it, I kept getting sick for seemingly no reason. Calliope and Clio were baffled, as Muses don't really  _get_  sick unless magic interferes somehow," Erato explained.

"So how did you come to that conclusion? Did Apollo tell you, or?"

"You would think, apparently he thought I already knew, so he didn't say anything. Artemis was on decent terms with him at this point and came to see us. She informed me that I was pregnant and I was sure that couldn't be true. I hadn't been with anyone since I was a mortal; it never seemed like the right time. Then she told me that it was the child I thought I had lost and I wasn't sure what to think. I had already come to terms with the fact that my lover and our child were gone, and all I had were memories. It seemed like a terrible tease for that not to be true. But, you see, when I had been alive, I had wanted to have his child so badly, and so there was part of me that was thrilled, absolutely thrilled, that I still had a chance."

"Seventy-five  _years_  though," Rowan couldn't help but cringe, opening her eyes upon Erato's instructions. She glanced upwards as the Muse ran a pencil eyeliner along her bottom eyelid.

"Oh, no, that part was awful. I had gotten to the point where I wasn't sure I was  _ever_  going to give birth. Perhaps I'd just be pregnant forever," Erato said with a roll of the eye. "But, then came the night when my water broke and Calliope, Clio and I were all terrified, we had no idea what to do. It hadn't occurred to us to prepare much because, well, we had no idea if or when I'd actually give birth. All I can say, is thank goodness for Sanderson Mansnoozie. He was completely calm and set me on one of his dream clouds so that we could go see Artemis, insisting that she would be able to help us."

"Right, didn't she help her mother give birth to Apollo?" Rowan asked, trying to remember the myth in question.

"She did, and she helped me give birth to Cupid after what was thankfully a very short labor. Can you imagine if that had taken as long as the pregnancy had? I would have killed Apollo," Erato said, shaking her head at the thought. Rowan crossed her legs as soon as she considered labor in general. "Then came that beautiful moment when you're handed your newborn baby for the first time… and I nearly screamed, I was terrified, there were these—these  _growths_  on his back! I demanded to know what they were and if he was okay. Artemis told me to calm down, that they were wings, the feathers just hadn't grown in yet. I was still completely baffled; obviously he hadn't inherited those from  _me._  Design tampering on Apollo and Tsar Lunar's part, of course."

"Are those two like morally against telling anyone anything?" Rowan asked.

"I don't know what their deal is with that," Erato shrugged. "I will say Apollo communicates with us much more than Tsar Lunar communicates directly with the Guardians."

"Jack said he's talked to him maybe three times in three centuries," Rowan sighed.

"I respect Tsar Lunar but I do disagree with many of his practices," Erato said. "Anyway, after all that panic, after all those years, I had my little boy. He screamed and cried something awful and Calliope said I looked like the most terrified person on the face of the planet as I tried to calm him down. All those years being pregnant and now I had to  _actually_ be a mother! It was the scariest thing I'd encountered. Then he finally calmed down and nursed, and I relaxed a little, said his name would be Eros Cupid. He fell asleep, and I just held him, wondering what else Apollo and Tsar Lunar had changed about him when they had interfered. Then he smiled in his sleep and he had dimples, just like his father, and all I could do was cry."

Rowan didn't really know what to say as Erato brushed mascara on to her eyelashes. She wasn't sure there was a single story she'd heard about any of the Muses that wasn't extraordinary and depressing in some way.

"And  _that_  is the story of how Cupid was born," Erato said with a smile, twisting the mascara closed and setting it aside.

"It's an intense story," Rowan finally said, taking the mirror as Erato handed it to her and glancing at her reflection. She still looked tired, but her appearance was brighter somehow, and she always thought her eyes looked nicer with some eyeliner. The makeup had been applied nicely, much more so than when Rowan did it herself. Erato had a lot of practice and it showed. "It looks really nice."

"Thank you. And thank you for letting me put some on you, it's just so fun to me," Erato said cheerfully.

"Yeah, I haven't gotten to wear any for a few days, I feel a little more human, I guess," Rowan said.

"Why don't you take some with you? That way you can put more on tomorrow if you like," Erato said, getting up and walking to the dresser, shuffling through the drawers and pulling out a small makeup bag.

"Oh, I don't want to take your things," Rowan said as Erato began sliding the items she'd used into the bag.

"I have plenty, and what I used on you is just a bit too dark for me anyway," Erato said, gesturing to the great amount of cosmetics situated on the dresser as Rowan pulled the elastic out of her hair.

"Are you sure?" Rowan asked. Jack hadn't thought to bring her makeup and it wasn't as though he could get anything from her apartment now that the police were searching it (plus she would feel silly asking him to get cosmetics for her). It seemed silly to put makeup on when she was stuck at the pole, but there was something nice about the ritual. Focusing only on oneself for a time, painting whichever face you pleased.

"Yes, yes," Erato said, pausing briefly as she set the last item in the bag before walking to a drawer again and taking out a few more items to slide inside. She zipped it closed and handed it to Rowan before taking a seat again.

Curiously, Rowan unzipped the bag to see what else Erato had slid inside, feeling herself blush as she found several small, square packages. "… do you, uh, give condoms to all your 'sisters?'"

"Well, not to Urania, she's not interested in any of that, and not to Thalia because well, these are for men and she's not interested in  _that_ , but if anyone else needs them? Yes, I usually have them," Erato nodded, the awkward nature of the situation having not dawned on her at all.

Jack hadn't thought to take any of  _these_  with him when he had picked up items from her apartment either, likely because at that point they weren't even sure if they could touch each other in  _non-_ sexual ways.

Rowan had half a mind to ask where exactly Erato got all of these, but somehow felt that perhaps she didn't want to know.

"Um… well… thank you?" Rowan said, zipping the bag closed and sliding it in her pocket.

"Oh, you're welcome. Did you need anything else?"

Rowan wasn't sure what Erato meant by "anything else," but as Rowan thought back to the story the Muse had told her while applying the makeup, she couldn't help but think of a question that had been present in her mind almost constantly. A thought that kept coming back to her in times of panic.

"Can I ask you something?" Rowan asked.

"Of course," said Erato.

"What happens when you die? I asked Jack, but, he says he doesn't remember, that when he came back it was like waking up knowing you'd been dreaming but not being able to remember the dream."

Erato sighed. "Oh, that's a tough one. The way Jack described it is pretty accurate. I know I went somewhere, to some other side or something. I know I experienced something there, but… I don't remember it."

Rowan frowned. She had hoped Erato would be able to give her a solid answer so that she could stop worrying about what may or may not be waiting for her whenever she died. "Do any of the other Muses remember?"

Erato shook her head. "No. Polyhymnia thinks she knows why, though, and after talking to so many death deities I'm inclined to believe her."

"What does she say?" Rowan asked.

"She says that we don't remember, because it's wonderful. It's paradise. She says that when we're brought back for a greater purpose, it's necessary that we forget most, if not all of it, because it would be so much more difficult for us to stay if we remembered how peaceful and beautiful it is," Erato explained, smiling softly.

"So, is it heaven?" Rowan had never been religious, and with all these mythical beings being real, she had no idea what to believe in.

Erato shrugged. "Hard to say. It's something."


	56. Suspects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with today's post I just barely managed to update twice in September! The last scene just did not want to happen, you guys, ugh. I'm also trying to find work and failing so that's been kind of time consuming and discouraging.

_He began to wonder when he got into the position of keeping secrets from others for their own good. Did the Man in the Moon have similar thoughts when remaining silent at Jack's inquiries for so long?_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Six: Suspects**

* * *

Jack had made a point to cause as many blizzards as he possibly could, to make up for the past few days of slacking on this particular responsibility. He didn't imagine that this would be taken as out of the ordinary. It was all too common for the weather to calm down, lull you into a false sense of security, lead you to think that perhaps you  _don't_  need that extra coat today, before that all went to hell all at once.

He had made his way about his usual rounds before finally reaching the east coast of the United States, which he had saved for last. He had stopped by to check on Rowan's parents, as per her request and found just about what one would expect. Her father was pacing his office on the phone, by the sounds of it speaking to the police and growing more and more frustrated as the conversation went on.

_"I'm telling you, she isn't a runaway!"_  Jack overheard before opening the window but slightly and sending a snowflake the man's way. His shoulders and breathing at least seemed to relax once it hit. His pacing stopped and he took a seat back in his chair, fiddling with an action figure nearby.

Lurking near the downstairs window, Jack had found another unsurprising sight: Dot sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop open and her cell phone to her ear. Her eyes were red and puffy, but dry as though she had no more tears left to cry.

_"What else am I supposed to do, Lor? I feel so helpless,"_  the woman had said before Jack had pushed open another window enough to send a snowflake her way, too. She spared only a vague smile.

That particular power of Jack's had never been that effective on adult mortals, he supposed, as Dot continued speaking to her sister, agreeing that she should call their mother. Cocking a brow, Jack took off again, remembering Jamie and still wondering how much he knew about this and how he was taking it.

Perhaps his mother had kept most of the details to a minimum, perhaps they wouldn't have told him at all. It hadn't taken Jack long to get to Burgess, landing gracefully just outside Jamie's window. Finding Jamie in his room, flipping through the pages of a rather thick book, Jack knocked on the glass.

Jamie's face usually lit up when Jack came to visit. That was not the case this time, however, as the boy's face dropped upon looking to see what had made the noise at his window. Jack frowned, having never experienced  _that_  reaction before. Jamie closed his bedroom door first before opening the window.

Before Jack could say a word, Jamie demanded, "Where's Rowan?"

"So, you heard she's missing," Jack winced. Jamie picked up a flyer from a stack on his desk and shoved it into Jack's hands.

"I know you know where she is, so where is she? Aunt Dot and Uncle Bill are  _really worried_ , Jack! And my mom is too!" Jamie said. Jack had never seen the little boy so angry before, and as he gazed down at the flyer, he understood why.

It was your typical missing poster, perhaps with better typography than most (he supposed one of Rowan's art school friends must have assembled it). It featured a recent picture of Rowan and her height, weight, and other identifiers listed below along with a number to call with any information.

But this was not what made Jack's stomach drop; this was not why Jamie was upset with him. No, the most concerning part of this poster was the bottom section, which featured one of the pictures that Thalia had agreed to take for him, disguised as "Jack Overland." The flyer stated that Rowan might be with him, and that if he was seen, the number should be called as well.

Not only was Rowan missing, but now  _Jack_  was the number one suspect in her disappearance.

"They think I—Wait, they think I kidnapped her or something?" Jack said, still trying to process this. He had never imagined that trying to help Rowan's story by providing pictures would work out  _this_  way.

"Did you? And where is the picture from?" Jamie demanded.  _"Where's Rowan?"_

Jack winced at Jamie's questions, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. "The pictures are of a friend of mine that shows up on film and can change her appearance at will," Jack started, unwilling to explain the Muses in full detail right now. It was too much to go over and they were hardly the most important part of the explanation Jamie wanted. "It was a favor they did for me so that Rowan could show her family what I looked like because they kept asking. I didn't kidnap her, though, Jamie, you  _know_  that, right?"

"Did someone else?" Jamie asked, his anger seemed to be moving closer and closer to fear as the conversation continued.

Both Rowan and Jack had made a point not to reveal to Jamie the full extent of what was going on. They both felt that he did not need to know about the Shadow People and he certainly did not need to know that they were after Rowan. So how exactly was Jack supposed to explain any of this to him now?

"We have her, the Guardians, that is. She's at the North Pole. She's  _completely_  fine," Jack said, hoping Jamie wouldn't pick up on the last statement being a blatant lie as he folded the flyer and set it in his pocket. Rowan was not fine. She was emotionally and physically exhausted and traumatized.

But she was alive. That was the closest thing they had to "fine" right now.

Jamie seemed a bit relieved at this statement. "Good, then bring her back."

Eye contact with the boy faltered. Jack cleared his throat and fiddled with his staff. "It's, um. It's not that  _easy_ , Jamie."

"Why not?" Jamie asked.

"It just isn't safe for her right now, she has to stay at the pole until the Man in the Moon tells us she can leave," Jack explained, hoping that the boy wouldn't ask for too many details.

"Why isn't it safe? Does it have anything to do with the job you had to do for the Guardians every night?" Jamie asked. The way Jack winced and his unwillingness to look Jamie in the eye again must have only immediately confirmed Jamie's question. "What's going on?"

"Look, there's just… there's some dark magic we're dealing with right now," Jack said, hoping to stay vague with the details.

"Is it Pitch?"

"No, it's something else."

"What does it have to do with Rowan?" Jamie was growing frustrated, Jack could tell. The winter spirit was quickly realizing that he'd become every adult that wouldn't answer a question without being vague because  _you're too young, you needn't bother yourself with this._  It was an endlessly frustrating thing to deal with.

He was supposed to be on Jamie's side. He was supposed to be there for the children. And here he was being just another adult. Condescending and vague, deciding what they could and could not handle.

It gave him a heavy feeling in his stomach.

"There are these creatures called Shadow People, and usually they don't do much harm, but they're getting stronger," Jack finally said, defeated. "They're after Rowan, and up until this point I was guarding her. That's where I was every night; that was my job for the Guardians. But it got to be too dangerous; we had to—to move her. That's why she's at the pole now. She can't leave until we know the Shadow People aren't going to come after her anymore."

"But why are they after her?" Jamie said. All anger finally gone and replaced with fear and worry.

"Because Rowan has something special inside her. She can inspire people. It's part of why she writes such great stories. If they take that away from her, they can give people nightmares like Pitch, and they can do exactly what he tried to do last year," Jack explained. He decided not to get into the fact that if they succeeded in feeding on Rowan's powers, she would die.

Jamie still didn't need to know  _everything._

"That's why the Guardians are protecting her," Jamie said.

"Exactly. Plus, I promised you I would protect her, didn't I?" Jack said, trying not to think of the new moon when he had failed to do just that. It didn't really matter how many times Rowan had assured him that she didn't blame him, or the other Guardians said it wasn't his fault. He still felt guilty, he still ran that night over and over in his mind, all the things he could have and should have done differently.

That wasn't going to happen again.

"Right," Jamie nodded. "But she's okay, right? And she's gonna come home safe?"

"Exactly," Jack nodded, pushing the image of her sickly, gaunt face from his mind.

"Aunt Dot's going to be so happy to know she's okay," Jamie said, turning toward his bedroom door. Jack stood and put a hand to Jamie's shoulder stopping him and wincing again.

"You can't tell them what's going on, Jamie," Jack said.

"Why can't I just let them know she's okay? I don't have to tell them she's at the North Pole," Jamie frowned.

"Because they'll want to know how you know. And they won't believe you," Jack said softly, feeling guilty even as he said it. How many secrets was he going to be involved in? "I know you want to cheer them up but it's too complicated to explain to people that don't believe."

"When is she coming back?" Jamie said.

"Hopefully at the end of the month," said Jack. "I promise, she's going to be perfectly okay until then."

"All right," Jamie sighed.

* * *

Melpomene wasn't sure where exactly they were. Usually  _she_  was the one transporting from one place to another, but this time Pitch had taken her by the hand and pulled her in and out of shadows until they arrived in a dark, forbidding crypt somewhere. The inscriptions on the final resting places had been worn away with time, no longer legible to give Melpomene a clue about the language and where they could be.

There was a statue, however, of Our Lady of Sorrows, watching them with her tearful eyes near one of the stone tombs. Wherever they were, these remains were of Catholics.

It was cold. There was something unsettling in the air. Neither she, nor Pitch had their moonbeams that had been trailing them since this ordeal began. She hadn't expected to feel so nervous without them, but it was necessary to leave them behind.

They had to appear unarmed. Trustworthy.

She stood beside Pitch, posture perfect and her expression neutral as the shadows up ahead shifted and took shape, emerging from the walls and ground, standing tall as dark figures. She breathed deep, trying to stay calm as they grew taller and taller, remembering all too well the instance when they had attacked her before.

"I am here to negotiate," Pitch said confidently to the shadows that seemed to be multiplying by the second. They were surrounded now, Melpomene could feel it, but she kept her gaze forward.

The shadows shifted, turning their faceless heads to Melpomene's direction.

"She's an ally. Her reputation surely proceeds her. You know of the troubles she's caused the Muses and Guardians alike. She's on our side," Pitch said. Still, their empty gaze rested on Melpomene.

"Centuries bound to their false sense of morals has worn on me," Melpomene said. "I wish only to see them fall so I may be free of this alliance, free of my so-called 'sisters' and Apollo."

Seeming to be satisfied, their attention returned to Pitch, who smiled. "And you all know very well of my own rivalry with the Guardians. We have information about future plans for the Mortal Muse. With this information you can easily take her power with little resistance. In exchange, I ask that we be protected, that we be spared when you begin your reign of terror."

The Shadow People didn't react for a moment, Melpomene wondered if perhaps they were silently communicating among themselves. Finally, they nodded.

"I have one other thing to ask, if you will," Pitch continued. Melpomene struggled to keep her neutral expression. They hadn't discussed any further negotiations with the Shadow People, just a bargain for safety. "This will benefit you, as well as I. As you may know, my plans were thwarted before due to the belief of one child. This same child could still pose a threat to your plans, really anyone's plans against the Guardians. It's best we take care of that, don't you think?"

The Shadow People nodded again.

"Then on the night you take care of the Mortal Muse, I simply ask to lead a group of Shadow People to this child. Feed on his spirit until he has nothing left to believe in ever again. It's all too clear that fear is not enough," Pitch said. They had all heard about this child. Jamie Bennett was becoming a legend in his own right in the magical community: The Last Light.

The Shadow People once again nodded.

"Very good," Pitch said, still smiling. "On the full moon the Mortal Muse will be moved from the North Pole. Two of the other Muses will be traveling with her, by train. The Guardians are all much too busy to provide transportation themselves, it's why they chose the full moon as a time to move her. They're going to deposit her in Burgess, Pennsylvania to be with her aunt. The fools worry for her mental health and feel she'll be better of with her relatives than isolated from them much longer.

"As it will be the full moon, in order to assure success, you should send the majority of your people to attack. No more beating around the bush, no more holding back. Finish her off for good. The Muses she'll be traveling with will be no problem to eliminate once you're through with her. They'll never see it coming, they don't expect you to be out at all. You will win. We all will."

Silence once more. It was exceedingly unsettling, every second that ticked by as the shadows communicated among themselves. Melpomene was sure it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours by the time one of the tall shadows moved forward, shape shifting until it appeared as Jack's silhouette.

"Frost has been relieved of his duties after his disastrous performance at the new moon. Excellent work, by the way. He and his silly staff won't be around to cause you trouble," Pitch assured them. The shadow resumed its previous shape and silence enveloped the crypt once again.

A few uncomfortable moments later, the tall shadow reached its hand outward and Pitch took it. They shook hands firmly.

"It's been a pleasure," Pitch said politely. Shadows began drifting out of sight, melting back into the floors and walls. "See you all at the full moon. Burgess, Pennsylvania."

He took Melpomene by the hand and slipped away into shadows again. Soon enough they were back in Pitch's lair, the Boogeyman looking exceptionally pleased with himself as he released her hand and took his place near the globe to watch it.

"The bit about the child wasn't part of the plan, Pitch," Melpomene said, stepping into place beside him.

"Not part of the Guardian's plan, perhaps. It's just insurance. The Shadow People take care of Jamie Bennett. The Guardians take care of the Shadow People. That leaves me in a grand position to strike again, and soon," Pitch said, eyes fixed on a particular light in North America. "I'll need your help, too."

"Oh?" Melpomene asked.

"Yes. You'll already be in disguise as Rowan Sawyer anyway. I'll need you to go into the boy's room and lure him outside of the dream sand barrier the Sandman is going to put up so that the Shadow People can feed on his spirit," Pitch said.

"Why will me looking like Rowan Sawyer help?" Melpomene asked, confused.

"It's a small world, Mel," Pitch said, gesturing to the globe. "Jamie Bennett is her cousin. He'll listen to you if he believes you're her."

"Well… that's convenient," Melpomene said, brow furrowed as she watched the sparkling lights.

"What's the matter? Not growing a conscious on me are you?" Pitch said, cocking a brow.

"No, no, it's just always a little unsettling when someone meets tragedy like this so young," Melpomene assured him. "Childhood isn't supposed to involve things like this."

"Childhood is full of plenty of tragedy. Tragedy that the Guardians fight so hard to shelter children from. If they never know sadness or fear, they're entirely unprepared for the cruel reality of adulthood, if they make it that far. The Guardians hurt children more than they realize," Pitch said. Melpomene nodded. Pitch had a point, she supposed.

Tragedy got to everyone sooner or later. Perhaps it would just meet Jamie Bennett sooner than most.

"You're right. I suppose I just remember my own childhood being so happy, I like to believe others get to enjoy life at least that long before things get bad," Melpomene said.

"His belief is too strong, it's for the best," Pitch said. "Can I count on you to help with this?"

"Of course, I'll be happy to," Melpomene said with a nod, eyes still fixed on the globe.

* * *

"We have another problem for the pile," Jack sighed, handing North the folded up flyer from his pocket. The older man unfolded the paper and read it, eyes darkening as he did.

"Where did they get the picture?" North said, glancing back up at Jack.

"It's Thalia in the picture, that's why I borrowed your camera. It was just supposed to keep her parents and her friends from getting too suspicious," Jack sighed, sitting down on the table as he usually did, pushing his hair back nervously.

"Well, they will not find you. 'Jack Overland' as you and Rowan have presented him to everyone does not exist," North said, setting the flyer aside and shaking his head slightly.

"There's other Jack Overlands out there, though," Jack said with a frown.

"All will be false leads, none will match your description, none will be in the right place, all will have alibis. Even if they find someone that looks like the picture they will not have the right name or means to have committed any crime in relation to Rowan," North said. Jack wasn't sure whether or not to take this as a good thing. There was never any threat that he would be arrested or something, but the idea of even being suspected was unsettling.

Not to mention…

"They'll figure out Jack Overland, the mortal human from Burgess, doesn't exist, like you said," Jack said. "We're going to have to come up with something for her to say when she gets back to explain that."

"Well," North said, obviously trying to keep his tone gentle. "You were going to have to do that at some point, Jack."

Jack's gaze fell from North and down to the floor. Courting a mortal is a terrible idea. Even North, who had encouraged him to do so, knew this.

"Yeah, I just, I guess I was hoping it wouldn't be this soon," Jack said. "I figured at some point she'd just tell her parents we broke up and we'd figure something out from there. Now she gets to explain a made-up boyfriend."

"That is something to worry about later. Cross that bridge when you get to it," North said with a nod.

"That's how we've been dealing with  _everything_  when it comes to this. We'll deal with it later, we'll deal with it later, there's Shadow People to deal with now, we'll deal with the fact that no one in your life can see me later," Jack said with a sigh, meeting North's gaze again.

How long could they keep this up before it all fell apart? Before they had to go their separate ways? Not because of any change in feelings for either of them, but rather because they could not co-exist in the same world?

He didn't like thinking about it.

And so most of the time he didn't.

"Well, it is true. The Shadow People are the bigger issue right now," said North with a slight shrug. "That and Rowan's health."

"She seems to be doing  _sort_  of better," Jack said. "I mean, she's really exhausted, and she's still having issues getting around and she's sore, but…"

"Bunny and I spoke with Pitch. It is impossible to say what will happen with her health, but… it is a possibility that she may never fully recover from this," North said, taking on that gentle tone again. "And we already know that another attack from the Shadow People now would kill her instantly."

Jack's heart dropped at the thought that Rowan would end up spending the rest of her days having flashbacks and anxiety attacks, with sore joints, headaches, and barely able to stay awake a few hours at a time. "But, we don't know for sure that she  _won't_  fully recover, right?"

"Right. But now all we can do is treat the symptoms. Hope for the best," said North, rising from his chair and standing before Jack. "I wish I could tell you that everything was going to turn out all right. That things would be better as soon as the Shadow People are taken care of, but…"

"They're just the most  _dangerous_  obstacle we have to deal with right now," Jack frowned, bringing himself to his feet as well. North nodded, sadly.

"Once we take care of that, I will try to help you with everything else," North said, setting a hand to Jack's shoulder and offering him a smile. "I am the one that said you should pursue her in the first place, after all."

"You might have been on my side but I make my own decisions and got into this mess all by myself. Thanks, though," Jack said, finding it in himself to return North's smile. "I'm gonna go check on her, though."

"All right," the older man nodded, walking Jack to the door of his workshop. With every step he took in the direction of the guest room Rowan was staying in, Jack focused on  _not_  focusing on the possibility that her condition would not improve or that there might still be a possibility of her dying from it entirely. All at once he decided that it was probably for the best not to mention the potential bleak outcomes to Rowan.

She was already terrified of dying despite being in a safe location away from any immediate threats. They truly didn't know either way if she were going to recover or not anyway. No need to scare her further.

Great, more secrets.

He began to wonder when he got into the position of keeping secrets from others for their own good. Did the Man in the Moon have similar thoughts when remaining silent at Jack's inquiries for so long?

He knocked on the guest room door, brow furrowed as he considered this.

"Who is it?" came Rowan's voice from inside.

"Jack."

"Come in," she replied. He stepped inside, locking the door behind him as he went. Rowan sat cross-legged on the bed, the sketchbook he'd brought her in her lap. When he peered over, he found the page to be blank.

She must have just turned to a new page, he supposed.

"Hey," Jack said, leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips, her body much warmer than he was used to. Feverish? Again?

"Hello, how was the snow?" Rowan asked. There was something different about her face. The dark circles beneath her eyes seemed to be gone, her skin seemed brighter.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Inconveniencing hard working people, delighting children," Jack said. "Are you wearing makeup?"

"Oh, yeah, I went by Erato's room earlier and she gave me some," Rowan said, reaching for a bag on the bedside table and pulling it over.

"How'd that go?" Jack said, confused as to how Rowan ended up there in the first place. She'd been avoiding the other Muses like the plague. "And how'd you even get over there?"

"I walked, kind of, if you could call that walking. I just wanted to get out of this room for a little while," Rowan shrugged. "It was all right. Found out the Muses don't remember what it's like to die either."

The Guardian winced. "Why are you so determined to find that out?"

"I told you. Not knowing what's going to happen scares me," she said, shrugging again. "I guess Polyhymnia thinks they don't remember because it's really wonderful and no one would ever stay here if they remembered what it was like there."

"Well, that's a nice thought, I guess," Jack said, pulling over the makeup bag curiously. It was red and embroidered with roses and filigree.

"Mmhm… did you check on my parents?" Rowan asked.

"Yeah, they were worried out of their minds, as expected. I kind of got them to calm down with some snowflakes but there's not much that'll make them feel better right now besides you coming home," Jack said, fiddling with the zipper on the bag. Rowan sighed, eyes fixed on the blank pages of her sketchbook. "Stopped by your aunt's too. Saw Jamie."

"How's he taking it?"

"Better than the rest of them, I told him you're okay and you're here," Jack said, focusing his attention on her rather than the bag.

"Did you tell him anything else?" she asked, wincing.

Jack hesitated before saying, "That the Shadow People are after you and that's why you have to stay here."

_"Jack!"_  Rowan groaned, setting her sketchbook and pencil aside. "He didn't need to know that!"

"I didn't tell him any of the Muse stuff, I was vague, but he was on to me, okay? He figured out that my 'job for the Guardians' had to do with all this and you were in trouble. Plus he was mad at me when I got there anyway because here's a fun surprise, I'm the number one suspect in your disappearance," Jack said, bracing himself for whatever her reaction to this news would be.

"How on earth are  _you_  a suspect?" she demanded eyes wide.

"Well, technically 'Jack Overland' is. One of the pictures we sent to your family and friends is now at the bottom of your missing poster saying you might be with me," Jack explained. Rowan groaned again.

"This is a disaster," she sighed. "Of all the problems I thought I'd run into dating an immortal…"

"I'm sorry," Jack said, eyes falling back to the makeup bag again as he lightly touched the embroidery, tracing it with a light layer of frost.

"It's not your fault," Rowan said. "I just really wish the situation would  _stop_  getting worse."

"Same," Jack said, fiddling with the zipper again. He paused, peering inside at what certainly were  _not_  cosmetics. "Did, uh, did Erato give you condoms?"

"Oh. Yes, she insisted," Rowan said awkwardly.

"Well… that's good, I suppose," Jack said, closing the makeup bag and setting back to its previous place on the bedside table. "I didn't exactly bring the ones you had at your apartment."

"Had something on your mind other than sex, did you?" she teased, leaning back against the pillows. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, the fact that you almost died was a little more distracting," he said, moving to sit beside her. Rowan frowned at this statement, all humor in the situation gone.

"It's all a mess," she said, casting a glance toward her sketchbook again, still frowning.

"Work on anything interesting?" he asked, gesturing to the sketchbook, hoping to change the subject.

"Didn't work on anything  _in general_ , I've spent the last hour staring at the stupid blank pages," Rowan groaned.

"Creative block?" he asked. Did Muses get creative block? Was that possible? Rowan's apartment walls were wallpapered with a seemingly endless amount of sketches and finished drawings. She always had her notebook somewhere nearby.

She had still managed to inspire him during the meeting, so her powers were still functional, that was certain.

"I think it's something else," she said, finally looking his way again. "There's just… I don't know, there's nothing  _there_  anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I went and looked around and I thought it was going to be this amazing thing. I mean, it's the  _North Pole_ , I used to daydream about it when I was little. It was supposed to be amazing, and I mean, it was, but I didn't feel anything about it. I got back to the room and I tried to write or draw and it was the same thing, I didn't feel anything toward it, couldn't think of why I should bother. And I thought about it and I haven't really been happy or excited about anything since the new moon," she explained, sadness ever-present behind her tired eyes as she spoke.

"Well, there hasn't been a lot to be excited about, to be fair," said Jack. He wasn't so sure they had actually gotten any  _good_  news since all of that had occurred. A quick turn of the wrist and he sent a snowflake her way, watching her smile as light danced in her eyes.

"Thanks. That helps a little," she said, pulling herself closer to him and resting her warm forehead against his shoulder. "I just want to feel something positive, you know? I haven't really felt like a real person…"

"You've had a rough few days," Jack said, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "You'll bounce back."

At least, he hoped she would. She traced circles on his knee with her fingertips, eyes fixed on the fireplace for a time. At least whatever Bunny had given her hadn't worn off yet, her eyes still behaving normally.

Jack ran his fingers up and down her arm, unsure of what else to say.

"Tell me about the penguins," Rowan said finally. "Maybe I just need a distraction."

Jack smiled, releasing his grip on her and holding his hands before him. She returned her head to his shoulder and watched intently as he conjured up some ice that took the shape of a penguin, waddling across the air in front of them.

"They're really fun to watch. Especially in Antarctica, they've got a lot more  _room_ , you know, than in a zoo," Jack said, conjuring up another penguin to join the first one. He glanced Rowan's way, delighted to see that a small smile had come to her face at the sight. A third frost representation of a penguin appeared, sliding on it's stomach until it crashed into the other two, knocking them over.

"They're so cute," Rowan said as the ice penguins returned to an upright position. "I think I read somewhere they mate for life?"

"The Adélie penguins do," Jack said. "And they take turns watching the eggs."

"That's sweet," she said.

"You know what's  _not_  sweet?" Jack said.

"Hm?"

"Well, do you know how they can tell if the water's safe?" The penguins he'd created gathered at the edge of the bed, peeking over the edge as though down to a great abyss.

"No, how?" Rowan said, still eying the penguins, fidgeting at the edge of the bed. Soon enough, the first two shoved the last one off the edge. He burst into snow that fluttered about the room the moment he hit the floor.

Rowan put a hand to her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter. "Oh shit. They just pushed him off!"

"And if he doesn't get eaten they know it's safe," Jack said. The remaining penguins jumped off the bed, each bursting into snow as the first one had.

"That's terrible," Rowan said, still laughing.

"And yet, you're laughing," Jack said, unable to help his smile.

"It's nice to know I still can," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. She already felt less feverish than earlier. At least he could help her in that aspect. "I'm just really glad to have you around right now, Jack."

"Back at you," he said, turning his head to properly kiss her. "Once we're out of here I will take you to see penguins until you're sick of seeing penguins."

"Who could get sick of penguins?" Rowan asked, still smiling.

"I don't know, three hundred years and I'm still not sick of them, so," Jack shrugged. "But if you  _do_  get sick of them, we can see the seals, the orcas, and then blue whales hang out down there."

"You're not gonna pull the shit that you did with the Humpbacks are you?" Rowan asked suspiciously.

"What, are you scared? The orcas are smaller," Jack laughed.

"Okay, but the blue whales are like goddamn dinosaurs and I already have nightmares about drowning, I don't need to have nightmares about a giant whale killing me," Rowan said, cringing slightly at the thought.

"You're not krill, so you'll be fine, but sure, sure, I won't show off with those whales," Jack said, lying back against the pillows and bringing her with him.

"Good. All the same, we'll spend time with the penguins for a while, I think," Rowan said. "Hopefully we'll get to see more of them being cute than them being assholes that shove their friends off cliffs."

"Hoping to see them holding fins and flirting?" Jack teased.

"How would a penguin flirt?" Rowan asked, smirking as she leaned over him.

"Well, I imagine the boy penguin violates the girl penguin's privacy and then the girl penguin tases him," he said with a shrug.

"I don't think that's flirting," Rowan said, rolling her eyes, though she was still smiling.

"It's totally flirting," Jack insisted.

"Sounds like it's the boy penguin being a jerk and the girl penguin having to put him in his place," Rowan said.

"The girl penguin thought he was cute or she would have done  _much_  worse," he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned her warm forehead into his hand, still smiling.

It was nice to see her smile.

"If it makes the boy penguin feel better to believe that, I suppose," she said. "If that's what they do, though, penguins aren't very good at flirting."

"Good thing  _we're_  not penguins," he said.

"Good thing," she agreed, kissing him softly, "I much prefer our method of making fun of each other until sexual tension takes over."

"Hell of a lot more fun than being tased," Jack agreed, pulling her back to his lips. "And you did say you were looking for a distraction."

"There  _is_  only so long one can talk about penguins," she said into his lips, her hands sliding beneath his jacket, warm against his skin.

"So, let's stop talking."


	57. The Eye of the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so, so, SO SORRY that I did not update at all last month, you guys. I really am. I tried and it just wasn't happening. I hope everyone had a great October and a spooky Halloween and got lots of cool Halloween things once they went on sale on November first. I've been doing mostly the same as I've been, except I took some time to be Tina Belcher for Halloween, so I mean, that was fun.
> 
> \---PLEASE READ: Some notes/warnings before we get into this chapter. The first section of this chapter is NSFW. If you would like to skip that part, CTRL + F for "*" without the quotes, and that will take you to the end of that part. I'm also putting up a TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter includes discussion of weight loss. No numbers are discussed. But things like bones and illness are. Please proceed with caution if you have found such things to be triggering for you.

_"We're never going to, are we?"_

_"Going to what?"_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Eye of the Storm**

* * *

Her breathing came in gasps, shivering at his touch as they moved together. She leaned over him, eyes locked and hands gripping his hair. Her back was to the fireplace, the only light source in the room. Even with the poor lighting, though, Jack couldn't help but think he saw something unsettling in her eyes. There was something sad there: longing, desperate.

All he wanted was to take it away. His powers weren't strong enough to keep her smiling for long, to take the underlying sadness away from her warm, brown eyes.

He didn't know if it was damage done by the Shadow People he simply couldn't undo, the fact that her belief had been manipulated away and back again, or just the fact that Rowan was not a child that kept those small, sparkling snowflakes from penetrating her sadness to the core.

She had wanted a distraction from it, from all of it. This was certainly a distraction, wasn't it?

His lips met hers again, hands sliding down and bringing frost with them. She groaned, muscles tightening and hands slipping from his hair to his neck. "Jack," she sighed between kisses.

"Rowan," he mumbled back. It was getting harder and harder to think, harder to focus on anything besides the way she moved on top of him despite her weakened state, the absolutely wonderful way strands of hair stuck to her sweat-covered forehead. Her touch went from taunting and gentle to firm and desperate without warning. Goose bumps rushed across her skin, her fogging gasps met his mouth and neck.

He could hear her voice echoing through his mind every now and again, her powers acting up. The most that made sense were instructions that, when followed, left her groaning.

She grew warmer as the moments passed and he could feel himself doing the same. It didn't stop the frost from branching from his fingertips and across her back or the bed sheets, however. As tension continued to build up within the both of them, Jack noticed the ice he was creating less and less. Everything now was just a natural reaction.

Her gasps dissolved into whining groans as she grabbed at the headboard for support and his fingers moved. She cried out in approval, moving faster. Her tone was enough to give away that she had completely given in to her reactions as well, that she was quickly losing control. He groaned in response, heart swelling with the knowledge that he was responsible for that.

She tightened, movements erratic as she reached her peak. Her pulse was strong as she leaned her chest against his, but he barely had time to take note before he, too, could no longer contain the energy that had been building within them both. He trembled, biting at her bottom lip as he tightened his grip on her.

It was his turn to be desperate, clinging to her as they each called out for the other. The room temperature was dropping rapidly and the wind and snow outside picked up dramatically, but Jack was none the wiser.

The only other thing that existed at that moment was this frail, wonderful girl, whose voice could utter his name a thousand times and he would never grow tired of it.

_"Jack—! … oh, Jack…"_

*And then it was through. The movements slowed to a stop, they slumped back with heavy breaths. Rowan shivered, pushing sweat-soaked bangs from her face and Jack offered her a sheepish smile as her teeth chattered a bit. She simply smiled, running her fingers through his hair before kissing his cheek softly.

What followed were clumsy, lethargic movements and attempts to clean up a bit while the fire worked overtime to cancel out the change in temperature Jack had accidentally caused. As Rowan slowly made her way across the room, into better light, Jack couldn't help but wince a bit as his eyes fell to her bruises again, as he took note of how much thinner she seemed to be already.

There was little denying she was still worse for wear. As he settled back into the bed, he couldn't help the dread that consumed him. There was still the very real possibility that she wouldn't recover fully.

He wondered for a moment if having sex with her was actually the best thing to be doing while she was in this condition.  _Bit late to be worrying about that_ , he thought to himself.

Well. She seemed to enjoy herself, at least? That would have been fun to explain to the others if she injured herself further during the act.

_Jack! What happened?_

_Pilates?_

_Jack, seriously._

_Okay, okay. Funny story, Erato gave her some condoms and…_

Jack decided that perhaps now was just the time to be grateful that  _hadn't_  happened.

Before long, Rowan was climbing back into bed beside him, seeming utterly exhausted as she set her head to his shoulder.

"In addition to the soreness I was already experiencing, now my hips hurt. I hold you personally responsible," she mumbled, closing her eyes. Jack rolled his eyes, sliding an arm around her shoulders.

"Takes two to tango, Sawyer," he replied. "It's only half my fault."

"It's half yours and half your boney hips," she yawned. He ran his hand down her side until he felt  _her_  hipbone, tracing it with his thumb. The bone had never been quite so prominent before.

How much weight  _had_  she lost already?

Jack decided not to bring it up.

"That's nice," she breathed as he continued to run his thumb over her hip. He had noticed that it at least seemed to help a bit when he touched her where she was sore. Being cold to the touch had to have some advantages, right?

But maybe he was over-reacting. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe the idea that Rowan's condition was getting worse was making him imagine that she was thinner than before.

Maybe he  _should_  bring it up, find out if Rowan thought the change was drastic or not. She knew her body better than he did, right?

But before he had a chance, Rowan's breathing had settled into that steady place that came with sleep. Jack rested his head against hers with a heavy sigh, waiting for sleep to take him as well.

He wasn't sure when he finally fell asleep, but he woke with a start at the sound of stressful breathing and crying.

"Rowan?" he muttered, rubbing at his eyes. She was sitting upright, hugging her knees and shaking as she continued to cry.

" _I'm going to die, there's nothing I can do, it's all just going to be dark—!"_  she coughed between sobs.

"It's going to be okay, you're not going to die, it's all right, breathe with me," he said, wincing when he realized she was in the middle of another anxiety attack. He had hoped that getting her mind off everything would have helped.

Apparently not.

He urged her to lie down, pulling her into his arms as she continued to cry, clinging to him for dear life.

"It's going to be okay," he said again, wondering if that was actually true.

* * *

The bell above the coffee shop door rang out in alert, notifying all inside that Shirley and Adam had just trudged through, scraping snow off their boots as they went and frowns fixed to their faces. The sun was starting to set now; the coffee shop was almost entirely vacant.

Nicolette stood near the counter, talking to the boy behind it, this time the lanky, dark-haired boy she called her boyfriend. Quinn was absentmindedly cleaning a ceramic mug, clearly more interested in Nicolette. They each turned at the sound of the bell.

"How'd it go?" Nicolette asked, gesturing to the flyers that both Adam and Shirley held in their hands.

"We moved a lot of posters, but it doesn't really feel like we're, you know,  _helping_  anything," Shirley said, sounding defeated as she took a seat at the nearby table.

"Getting the word out  _is_  helping, though, this is blowing up all over social media," Nicolette said. "Your hashtag, 'FindRowan' was trending locally, last time I checked."

"Plus we've still got a few posters hung up in here," Quinn said, gesturing to the missing poster on the front window. There was one near the menu, as well. "And I managed to pass one out to just about every customer we got today. It's  _something."_

The bell above the door rang again and the bright-haired Teddy stepped inside, rubbing his gloveless and now pink hands together for warmth. "I  _haaaaate_  the cold. Shit."

"Teddy, how am I supposed to do anything productive when you come in on your day off to bother me anyway?" Quinn said, completely ignoring the fact that just a few moments ago all he was doing was talking to his girlfriend.

"You know what? I got you this job in the first place,  _so…"_  Teddy said, waving Quinn's comment away before plopping down at the table with Adam and Shirley.

"And  _you_  got this job because your brother's fiancé owns this place," Quinn said dryly.

"He's my  _half-_ brother," Teddy retorted.

"What difference does that make?" Adam asked, eyebrow cocked.

"So it's only half the nepotism. Maybe even a quarter if you take into account the fact that they're not married yet," Teddy said, shrugging slightly as he pulled his beat-up laptop from his bag and set it on the table.

"I don't think that's how it works," Nicolette said, smiling slightly.

"Definitely not how it works," Quinn said.

"Did you guys see the news today?" Teddy said, eyes fixed on his computer as he typed and clicked.

"You watch the news?" Shirley said skeptically.

"How else can he come up with a conspiracy theory every time congress does  _anything?"_  Nicolette rolled her eyes.

"The rest of us had shit to do today, Theodore," said Quinn.

"Right, well, your school," Teddy said, referring to Adam and Shirley, "Had reports of someone screaming and running around the night Rowan went missing so they went and looked at security tapes. Rowan was on them so they notified the police. The police have no idea what's going on in the tapes,  _so_ , they were released to the public today in the hopes that someone might have some information."

"What's going on in the tapes?" Shirley asked.

"No one's really sure but check it out," Teddy said, turning his computer around so that the others could see the screen. Nicolette came closer; Quinn moved from his place behind the counter to get a better look as well. A quick click later and a video was playing. An attractive news anchor with rather large hair was speaking with the picture featured on Rowan's missing poster and "#FindRowan" in the corner of the screen.

_"The search for missing college student, Rowan Sawyer, continues today with the release of new footage from the night of the twenty-year-old's disappearance. The footage, recovered from security cameras at Pyle School for the Arts after several reports of a scream that night, has left investigators baffled, as Sawyer seems to be running from something, but no assailant can be seen. This has left some viewers to assume that paranormal activity may be behind her disappearance. Take a look."_

The video cut to the footage, the news anchor still speaking as it went along.  _"Here we can clearly see Sawyer entering the building with a flashlight in hand, looking winded and visibly distressed, looking outside as though to see if she's been followed."_  Rowan pulled at her hair and seemed to be breathing heavily in the video. The light above her began to dim and Rowan rushed away, out of that camera's line of vision.

Those gathered around the computer watched intently as the screen cut to another camera.  _"Sawyer enters the women's restroom for no more than a minute before the lights in the hall start to flicker."_  The video showed Rowan rushing out of the bathroom and down the hall as the lights flickered and went out behind her. Then the screen went dark.  _"This is when this camera stopped recording."_

More footage. Rowan rushing down the hall as lights went out behind her. There was a brief moment when she stumbled and nearly fell, but kept running. As soon as Rowan passed this camera, the lights went out and the screen went dark.

_"This camera, too, lost function."_

The next bit of footage was from outside of the school. Rowan ran across part of campus, out toward a rarely-used parking lot, as lights continued to go out. The only indication that Rowan was still there was the light from her flashlight.

"Why are you stopping?" Shirley mumbled as Rowan stopped running near a flickering street light, the last light still on. Soon enough, that went out too.

_"The last thing this camera recorded before losing function was this bright, blinding light, that has yet to be identified, several minutes later."_  The entire screen seemed to go from black to white as light flashed.

The news anchor was back on the screen, poised and entirely serious.  _"If anyone watching has any information that may help the police in their investigation, please call the number on your screen."_

And with the news station's animated logo sweeping across the screen, the video ended.

"That was… some horror movie shit," Nicolette said, standing upright now that the video was through.

"Seriously, what the hell?" Adam said.

"Ghosts, I think. Or demons," Teddy said, matter-of-factly, turning his computer back around.

"Can you be serious for a minute?" Shirley said. "A person is, you know,  _missing."_

"I  _am_  being serious, do you have another explanation?" Teddy said. Shirley frowned. "Besides, I'm not the only one that thinks so, this video is going around all kinds of paranormal websites; a lot of people  _swear_  they see something grab her ankle before she trips."

"Seriously?" Quinn said.

"Oh yeah, it's going viral, I saw it on facebook like five times already," Teddy nodded.

"Well, that's good, maybe someone that knows where she is will see it," Nicolette said with a forced smile.

"Has Rowan messed around with Ouija boards or anything recently?" Teddy asked seriously.

"I don't think so, she's just about as superstitious as you are, so," Adam said.

"Hmm. So she probably didn't upset any spirits on purpose, then, I wonder if someone cursed her," Teddy said, entirely serious.

"Have, uh, have you heard from Rowan's mom? About any  _concrete_  leads?" Quinn asked Shirley, trying to steer the conversation  _away_  from angry demons.

"I talked to her yesterday, she said they don't have a lot to go on. They keep trying to find her boyfriend but… well…" Shirley paused, sighing in frustration, "Apparently there's no records of him actually existing. There's no signs on her computer that she ever contacted him, there's no trace of him on her phone."

"Seriously? This keeps getting  _weirder,"_  said Nicolette.

"Maybe her boyfriend was one of them," Teddy mumbled, closing his laptop thoughtfully.

"What, you think her boyfriend was a demon that brought other demons by to harass her?" said Quinn.

"You guys look at me like I'm not making any sense but she's been gone for over a week and my explanation is the only one that  _does,"_  Teddy said, entirely unamused.

"I hate to say it, but he's right," Nicolette shrugged.

"I just don't like the idea of anything being after her, ghost or not," Shirley said, shaking her head. Something paranormal targeting Rowan?

Yeah, right.

* * *

Cupid barely acknowledged Tooth's mini fairies as he approached the main platform of Tooth Palace, maneuvering skillfully to keep from bumping his wings into anything as he went. His eyes were fixed on the tooth fairy, her back to him as she directed her fairies. She turned at the last moment to see him coming and stopped short before awkwardly returning to what she was doing.

Cupid landed carefully near her, her back still to him. "Tooth," he said.

"Is it important, Cupid? I've got a lot of work to do, you know," Tooth said gently, eyes still fixed on her fairies.

"You've been avoiding me ever since the new moon," Cupid said, frown fixed to his face as he spoke.

"There's been a lot going on, I've been.. I've been  _busy,_  we all have," she said with a sigh. "Left lateral incisor, Quebec—"

"You've been avoiding me at meetings, you've been avoiding me when you come by the pole for training, and my mother said she brought me up in conversation and you  _changed the subject_ ," Cupid said, arms crossed before him and feeling silly as he brought up something his mother had said for the sake of argument.

Tooth finally turned to face him again, frowning as she did. "Look, a lot's been going on in the past week, it isn't anything personal, really."

"You don't trust me anymore, do you?" Cupid said, wincing even as he spoke the words, afraid of what the answer was. Tooth paused, eyes wide.

"I just… I mean," Tooth said hesitantly.

"I swear to you, I didn't tell the Shadow People anything," Cupid said, looking her in the eye, practically pleading.

"I want to believe you, I really do, but at this point I don't know  _what_  to believe," said Tooth, her tone sympathetic as though she truly didn't mean for her words to cut into him the way they did as she spoke them.

"Why would I put my mother, the Muses,  _any of you_  in danger like that?" Cupid asked. He knew the obvious answer: to solidify his place in the alliance, the answer Pitch had provided when shifting blame that fell to him initially.

Did she believe that?

"I don't think you would. I want to trust you, I just… I don't know if I can trust the part of me that wants to," Tooth said, seeming apologetic as she did. "Too much has gone wrong recently and logically—"

"Maybe it's time to stop thinking logically," Cupid said. Things would be different if she did what her gut was telling her to, he was certain. The whole reason he was here was because he thought he had a chance in swaying her opinion, in opening up communication with her again.

They hadn't seen each other in centuries before the ball, it was true, but he already missed talking to her during training. He already missed the smile she used to give him whenever she said hello to him.

She hadn't spared a smile for him since everything went to hell.

"You can't just follow your heart all the time, Cupid. It'll get you into trouble," Tooth said.

"You've got to follow it sometimes," he said.

"I'm sorry. This is bigger than you and I," Tooth said, shaking her head. "I need to think about the others, about my fairies..."

"Right," Cupid said, turning his heel. He understood where she was coming from, certainly. But there was no denying the sting he felt over the fact that currently  _Jack Frost_  had more faith in Cupid's word than Tooth did.

What was he even doing here?

Maybe Tooth  _shouldn't_  trust him.

"I really am sorry, Cupid," Tooth said, sadness clear in her voice.

"So am I," Cupid said, spreading his wings and kicking off the platform.

* * *

"Arms out, stand up  _straight_ ," Arachne said, scribbling on a clipboard with two of her hands, taking Rowan's measurements with two more. A fifth hand kept hold of Rowan's shoulder, trying to keep her trembling form steady.

Jack's hand lingered near Rowan's back, watching her carefully.

"You probably don't have to crowd them, Old Man Winter," Thalia commented, seated at a nearby table and helping herself to a plate of cookies.

"He's always ready to catch me anymore," Rowan commented, her arms feeling heavier by the minute as she continued holding them out. It was true, whenever Jack was around the pole he was usually by her side, making sure she wasn't about to topple over. No matter how often she had managed to move herself around when he was away.

"Rowan falls over a lot around me, and recent circumstances have just made it worse," Jack teased, only moving slightly when Arachne eyed him in annoyance as her measuring tape snagged on his arm.

"This hovering has got to be  _annoying_ ," Arachne said, kneeling to the ground and shooing some elves away as she began measuring Rowan's legs.

"It is," Rowan said, casting him a teasing smile. "But I guess it's nothing new, he likes to crowd me when I'm drawing."

Not that she had drawn anything recently. She had tried doing even small sketches and the moment her pencil would reach the page, she would get an empty feeling in her stomach, a heavy feeling in her chest, and set the pencil aside.

It was incredibly depressing.

"I like watching you work," Jack shrugged.

"Thalia does that. Leans over, practically on top of me, 'What are you working on? What are you doing? What's that?'" Arachne said. "You'd think a Muse of all people would know how annoying it is."

"I do it solely  _because_  it annoys you," Thalia laughed. "Anyway, couldn't you have just gotten her measurements from me?"

Thalia set her mask to her face, and pulled it away to reveal her appearance to have changed to Rowan's. It was something that Rowan didn't see herself ever getting used to. Putting her mask back to her face, Thalia's appearance returned to normal.

"I just want to be completely accurate when I make clothes for you and Mel for the full moon," Arachne said, standing upright again and turning her attention to Rowan. She adjusted her multi-lensed glasses and said, "You can sit down."

Rowan took a few careful steps to the table where Thalia was sitting, Jack keeping a hand to her arm the entire way. She was torn between being appreciative over his concern and being annoyed at his hovering.

Having such difficulty just getting around was grating on her nerves. The new moon had been over a week ago and her mobility had barely improved.

"But you said you were going to make the clothes to stretch anyway, so we could transform back and forth while we were wearing them," Thalia said.

"It will look better if I make it to this size first," Arachne said, setting her clipboard on the table. "And I want to weave in some stardust, I don't know how well it will stretch after that."

"Not a bad idea, do you have enough?" Jack asked. Rowan pulled the clipboard over and examined the numbers scrawled there curiously.

"I should. After Bunny and Clio finish up whatever they're working on, they won't say since I guess I'm not on the  _need to know_  side of things, North wants me to use whatever stardust is left to make some more armor for you all," Arachne said.

"Are these in centimeters?" Rowan asked, brows furrowed as she read the numbers.

"Yes, why?" said Arachne.

"I took my measurements when I made my dress for the ball," Rowan said. "They were different from this, I lost a few centimeters."

"Well, you've lost some weight," Jack commented gently, leaning over her chair and glancing at the numbers.

"You noticed?" Rowan said, glancing his way. She had thought she lost  _some_  weight but not  _this much_. She had thought that perhaps what she'd lost hadn't been very noticeable, that she'd bounce back soon enough.

But her measurements said otherwise. Great. Something else to worry about.

"Yeah, your hip bones are more noticeable now," Jack said, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh,  _man_ ," Thalia said suddenly, cringing.

"What?" Arachne asked.

"Hip bones," Thalia said. "I mean, think about it, if her hip bones are sticking out and then Jack's so skinny that strong gusts of wind literally move him around, like,  _damn_ , it must hurt when you guys have sex."

Rowan and Jack found themselves simply staring at Thalia in stunned silence.

How exactly did one respond to that?

Especially when Rowan  _had_  found her hips to be sore recently?

"Just bones, clanging against each other," Thalia said, taking a spoon and tapping it against another one to demonstrate.

"We get your point," Arachne said. "And now there's an image in my head that I never wanted. Now, your clothes, Mortal Muse."

"My clothes?" Rowan said, confused but thankful for a new topic.

"I have to make something reflecting your style," Arachne said, making a face as she examined what Rowan was currently wearing. "Let's see, thrift store sweater, bought large on purpose so that it falls off a shoulder. Cheap camisole under the sweater… let me guess, there was a sale if you bought five?"

"Um, I don't… remember, probably," Rowan said, pulling three strands of her hair and beginning to twist them into a braid. She could feel herself growing more and more self-conscious as Arachne's eight eyes continued to scan her clothes.

"Tight jeans, worn with tears at the knees and… what appears to be acrylic paint. Sensible winter boots with, yes, even more paint. Your style is so… bargain bin, flash sale, thrift store," Arachne said, brow furrowed and a slight frown playing at her face. "You dress like an  _art student_."

"I  _am_  an art student," Rowan said, unsure if she should be insulted or not.

"She's just making observations," Thalia said.

"I might spruce things up a bit, make it a little more fun for me," Arachne said.

"Nothing too fancy. If I'm going to be on a train with a bunch of mortals disguised as a missing person I need to  _not_  bring attention to myself," Thalia said, reaching for another cookie.

"Should I make you a scarf to cover your face a bit?" Arachne asked.

"Definitely, and something with a hood. This whole missing person thing's gone nationwide," Thalia said. Rowan winced.

"Seriously?" she said.

"Oh yeah, you've gone viral, according to Euterpe," Thalia said with a nod.

"What's 'gone viral'?" Arachne asked.

"It's when pretty much everyone with access to the internet knows about it," Thalia explained. "That's a lot of people now."

"It feels like just yesterday that whole 'internet' thing started," Arachne shrugged, taking her clipboard again and scribbling a few things down. "Anyway, we'd best head back to the studio, get started on some sketches."

"Oh, okay, just a sec," Thalia said, piling a few (actually, most) of the cookies on the platter on to a plate and carefully carrying it with her. She raised herself to her feet and offered Jack and Rowan a friendly smile before pulling out her mask and walking over to Arachne.

Arachne linked arms with Thalia as the Muse set the mask to her face.

"See you later!" Thalia said cheerfully. In the next instant, she, her plate of cookies, and Arachne, were gone.

"Is it always so exhausting to talk to Thalia, or…?" Rowan said.

"I think so," said Jack, sitting atop the table she was sitting at as she glanced at the slowly turning globe in the distance. The platform they were sitting on was not the main one where the meetings tended to take place, but rather a smaller one, tucked away and quiet. There was less traffic here from yetis and elves, less chance of interruption. In fact, as soon as Thalia took most of the cookies and left with Arachne, the elves seemed to grow bored and began to wander off.

"You okay?" Jack asked. She had fallen silent as she watched the globe.

Turning her head back to focus on him, she shrugged. "I didn't realize I'd gotten that thin. It's not like I haven't been eating or anything…"

"Yeah, but you're stressed out, to say the least," Jack said.

Yeah, that was an understatement. She couldn't stop thinking, and that was the problem. She couldn't stop thinking about what happened with the Shadow People. She couldn't stop thinking about what dying would be like. She couldn't stop thinking about death in general. She couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she had missed a whole week of school and was going to miss another one before the full moon. She couldn't stop thinking about falling a semester behind or the pain and suffering she was causing her parents and her friends by simply disappearing.

So, yeah, all of that kind of stressed her out.

The only times she seemed to calm down were when she sat by herself watching the snow globe she had taken from North's stash, or when she spent time with Jack and he managed to distract her in some way.

"So you think it's stress, then, not… whatever the Shadow People did?" Rowan asked.

"Probably both," he shrugged. "And stress  _caused_  by what they did. There's a lot going on."

"Tell me about it," Rowan sighed, leaning back in her seat and rubbing the side of her head. Her headaches weren't constant anymore, thankfully, but they were still coming and going. "At least my eyesight seems to be okay since Bunny gave me whatever it was he gave me. And I really  _am_  moving around a little easier now… really."

"Yeah but you're still getting winded really quickly. Maybe I should just carry you around," Jack teased.

"Hm, like a bride being carried across the threshold, but all the time," Rowan said, mind wandering at the thought of being a bride. The notion of marriage terrified her, it really did. She was only twenty years old, after all, and still had a few years of school left. She wasn't in any hurry.

Or, at least that was how she felt before developing a strong fear that she was going to die, an extreme feeling of dread that her time was limited and everything might just end.

"Eh, something like that, figured you'd climb on my back like when we go flying," Jack shrugged.

"We're never going to, are we?" Rowan said before thinking.

"Going to what?" Jack said, visibly confused.

"It's dumb, never mind," Rowan said, shaking her head. Was this really a conversation she wanted to have with the boy she had only known a handful of weeks?

It was hard to believe it had only been that long.

"Okay but if you don't say it are you going to end up over-thinking it and stressing yourself out  _more?_ Because you don't need that," Jack said.

"Good point, but saying it might stress  _you_  out," Rowan said.

"Well now not knowing is going to stress me out so," he shrugged. Rowan sighed. She shouldn't have said anything.

"We're never going to get married," she said awkwardly. Jack's eyes widened a moment and he fiddled with his staff nervously.

"You want to get  _married?"_  he said.

Rowan shrugged. "I'm thinking about my mortality a lot, and, you know, when you do that, you think of things you want to do before you die. And up until the new moon happened I was like, marriage was the furthest thing from my mind because the idea of that kind of commitment kind of terrifies me. But I think about it, and I mean, I'd  _like_  to get married. Some day. At some point. When it's less scary."

"Oh," was all Jack said, still fidgeting and now avoiding eye contact all together. They fell into silence and after a moment, Jack cleared his throat and spoke again, his voice small. "Well, um. No. I can't give you that. When North and Yelena got married, I mean, it was different. She didn't have any family, and even if she did, the time was different and more people believed. She was a mortal that was just… completely part of our world."

Rowan nodded. She knew all of this, of course. She was walking a line between the world where the Guardians and the Muses were more than myth and legend and the world where everything had an explanation and people like her and Jamie grew up being told that they had over-active imaginations.

Being with Jack long-term would mean that one of them would have to abandon life as they knew it. Jack couldn't exactly stop being Jack Frost, and even if he could, Rowan wouldn't ask him to. He had spent three hundred years trying to find his place in the world and  _finally_ , he had. He belonged with the Guardians; he had a greater purpose.

But the only way Rowan could leave the mortal world and really be part of Jack's was to die in an "inspiring" way and become a Muse, and that was the last thing that she wanted.

It would be a lie to say she hadn't daydreamed about how things might go if Jack were mortal, how much easier everything would be. She felt guilty about it every time.

"I'm sorry," Jack said. Rowan realized she had fallen silent again. He seemed to be scrambling for something else to say.

"It's okay, you're not telling me anything that I didn't know," Rowan said. That didn't mean that it hadn't stung a little, though, hearing Jack actually  _say_  that marriage wasn't really an option for them.

"Do you think about our future a lot?" he asked, wincing as he spoke.

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Sometimes I wonder if, you know, if I'm going to end up coming up with cover stories forever. Sometimes I think about how we can't really grow up together and I think about how you can't meet my parents a lot." She paused before adding, "Do you?"

"I try not to. I spent a lot of time worrying that my own future wasn't ever going to change and I'd be alone forever and that didn't turn out to be true. So, I try not to think about it or worry. But, I mean, I guess, sometimes I wonder how long it's going to go. But I never think on it for that long," Jack said. He was actively avoiding looking her in the eye now. Rowan frowned; she didn't like to think about things ending with Jack either.

This was why she had told them they couldn't be together in the first place, after all. It was all doomed to end eventually, for one reason or another.

"Jack, I just…" she started, unsure where she was going with that.

"Are you… breaking up with me?" Jack asked, finally, sadly, meeting her eyes. Her heart sank as the words passed his lips.

"What? No! No, of course not," Rowan said, shaking her head. She stood from her chair and took a seat next to him on the table, taking one of his fidgeting hands into hers.

"Well, the conversation kind of felt like it was going that way, so…" Jack said, seeming slightly relieved. She slid her fingers between his and rested her head to his shoulder.

"I know, I'm sorry. I think too much, you know that. It's hard not to think about where exactly this is all going…" Rowan said. "It's going to end at some point, but, I mean… let's let it go its course."

Silence again.

"We knew what we were getting in to, it's just… I don't like thinking about it having an ending, you know?" Jack said, squeezing her hand and glancing her way. "It doesn't really feel real."

"I don't either. The smart thing would've just been to not date you in the first place," Rowan shrugged.

"To be fair, you tried to do that," Jack said, managing to spare a nervous smile.

"I'm glad I didn't," she said. "This might not be the smart choice, but I think it was the right one."

"You worry about absolutely everything, how are you not completely terrified about this?" he asked, cocking a brow.

"Oh, I am. But I mean… we're… like a story. Or a series. We're a series of books you get into when the author is still writing the next installments," Rowan said.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going to get sort of cheesy here, get ready. So, when you get into a series, you start out with maybe a vague idea of what you're getting into, and soon you're completely consumed by the books. Each new book has twists you weren't expecting but others that you might have guessed. Small stories make up one grand, larger story. When the last book isn't written yet, it's not exactly real. You can come up with all sorts of theories about how it'll end based on what you know, but none of it is  _real_  until you get there. The fact that the series is ending isn't  _real_  until that last book is in your hands. You knew you had to get here at some point but you were enjoying the ride so much that you hadn't really considered what it would all mean when it ended.

"I don't know if we're going to get a happy ending. I don't know if we're going to get a bittersweet one or a sad one. Maybe we'll we get a neutral one, a safe one where no one's hurt. Maybe there'll be a plot twist.

"But getting there is the fun. And I don't want to stop enjoying the story we're living now because it's going to end in some other book. I don't want to end the story before it's time. We have so much more to say, so much more to do. I want to have this story with you, whatever genre it might turn out to be."

"Isn't that so like a Muse, comparing a relationship to literature," he smiled.

"I'm not a Muse, I just really like stories," Rowan smiled. "So, live our story with me?"

Jack seemed to pause, surprised at what she said.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing, just… someone else told me to live our story," Jack said, shaking his head. "But yeah. Let's live our story. I hope it's a long one."

"Me too," she said, leaning over to press her lips to his.


	58. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, you guys didn't have to wait a month for an update! Shit's about to get real in here, buckle up (but of course, that's just an expression)!

_"Since when do you care about the Muses?"_

_"Since I'm one of them."_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Eight: Trust**

* * *

It was morning, not that you would really know it. The only light outside the window was the bright and brilliant moon, keeping a watchful eye, perhaps more so than usual due to recent events. But according to the clock on the mantle, it was morning.

It wasn't much different from the other mornings at the pole. Rowan was beginning to grow used to Jack giving her a kiss, triple-checking that she was all right, and leaving to spread winter. It was almost domestic, in a way. Almost.

Today there was noticeable tension, however, noticeable nerves in his movements before he left. Tonight was the full moon, and the entire pole was buzzing. The yetis were rushing to and fro; Muses and Guardians were arriving and leaving again to get all the last minute details in order. Rowan swore she saw Pitch Black slip by through the shadows as she shut the door of her guest room, and with an unsettling feeling in her stomach, sat on her bed.

Squeezing the crystals that had been left under her pillow in one hand, Rowan opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out the snow globe with the other. "Burgess," she whispered, giving the globe a gentle shake. She smiled softly as the town came into view, watching as heavy snow fell atop it.

She wouldn't have to watch it from afar soon enough. It didn't feel quite real that after tonight, provided everything went according to plan, she would be able to finally leave the pole. She whispered her parents' address to the globe and watched it appear in her hands.

She would go there for a while, she thought. Make the trip home to Massachusetts, sleep in that obnoxiously pink bedroom, eat a meal that was prepared by her mother.

The yetis were excellent cooks, really, but nothing beat her mother's shepherd's pie.

It was all within reach.

The scenes she viewed in the globes were illuminated, light from the sun reflecting off the snow. Rowan realized suddenly how long it had been since she had seen sunlight, since she had felt it on her skin or winced at it pouring into her eyes.

She sort of missed it. It was too dark recently, both literally and figuratively.

Maybe after everything was said and done she would suggest that she and Jack find somewhere nice to watch the sun rise. That sounded nice.

There was a knock on the door. Rowan set the snow globe gently back in the drawer and closed it before looking up and saying, "Come in."

The door opened, revealing North with two mugs in hand. He offered her a smile before shooing away some curious elves. "Hello, Rowan," he said. "May I come in?"

Rowan nodded and North closed the door, taking a seat in the nearby armchair.

"Hot chocolate?" North offered, holding one of the mugs to her.

"Oh. Sure, thank you," Rowan said, taking the mug and lightly blowing into it before setting it to her lips. It was creamy, delicious, with just a little more chocolate than necessary. Strange, usually the yetis were particular about the chocolate ratio. Had North made this batch himself? "What brings you by?"

Surely he had a million things to do in order to prepare for everything that was set to take place tonight. Why would he bother himself with making cocoa and sitting with her?

"Thought I would slow down for few minutes, sit with you a while. Haven't gotten to talk much during your stay," North said. It was true, Rowan barely spoke to anyone that wasn't Jack since she had been here. Whenever North came by, the conversations were always about her health, and mostly with Jack.

She wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that he  _wanted_  to sit and talk to her for a while. She wasn't expecting it.

She supposed, if anything, she didn't mind. She was having cocoa with  _Santa Claus_ , she reminded herself. Eight-year-old Rowan, who had camped out in the living room hoping to see him, and who swore she had just before falling asleep, would be absolutely ecstatic right now.

Granted, eight-year-old Rowan was not recovering from a Shadow Person attack and was generally a lot happier and in a better mental state than twenty-year-old Rowan was.

Twenty-year-old Rowan tried to remind herself not to over-think this so much.

"Packed up already?" North said with a smile, gesturing toward the full canvas bag on the foot of the bed.

"Oh, well, I'm just, uh, you know, I'm trying to be optimistic, I guess," Rowan said with a shrug. "And I mean, I didn't want my things to just be lying around the room, you know? You've been really good to me, the least I can do is attempt to keep things in order."

North waved away her concerns. "Do not worry. The elves cause more messes in an hour than you have in the two weeks you have been here," he said. "I do hope your time here has not been too uncomfortable, all things considered."

"Oh, it's been fine. I mean, obviously a lot has been going on and I know I haven't exactly been the most grateful guest but I do appreciate you taking me in and everything… really," Rowan said, forcing a smile and pushing her bangs from her eyes.

"I understand. It has been nice having you around, Rowan. Really," North said.

"Really? I mean, you guys have just been making sure I don't fall over and die, I mean, that can't be any fun," Rowan said with a wince. North smiled, taking a drink from his own mug.

"Ah, the yetis do not mind, nor do I. I had five children, Rowan, keeping an eye on  _one_  person is piece of pie," North said. "Besides, you remind me of girl I used to know."

"Yeah?" Rowan said, wondering if he was referring to the Mortal Muse he had been married to, or perhaps his daughter. She sort of hoped that wasn't the case, as being compared to women in his family that he obviously held in such high regard was an awful lot of pressure.

Besides, as she had said a few times before, she was certainly not Yelena.

"Brave, strong girl who drew pictures and told stories because she loved them more than anything else," North said with a nod, a nostalgic look in his eye as he sipped his cocoa again. "She was a great friend of mine, it is nice to see that the world still has people like her."

"I don't know about brave and strong," Rowan sighed, eying the bruises on her arms. She had hoped they would have healed by now, but the marks seemed determined to stay as long as they could.

"Oh?" North said, cocking a brow. Did this rugged, tattooed, muscular Russian man really regard her as brave? As strong?

Loving stories, sure. That had kept her alive during the new moon, but was that necessarily strength?

"I mean… I write these stories about these women who can hold their own against whatever adversary they're up against. These strong, able-bodied women who don't need rescuing or protecting. They just need their wits and their weapons," Rowan said. At least she used to. She hadn't had a single idea for any of her stories recently, and that had left her feeling strangely empty. It had never happened to her before.

"Yes, yes, Jack has told us how wonderful your stories are, and they were quite the hit at the ball," North said.

"But the thing is that I  _write_  about these women and I'm just... I'm not one of them," Rowan said, pushing her hair back before taking another drink from her mug. "Here I am needing a babysitter, being relocated to a magical place where I'm supposed to be safe. Where I'm meant to sit and wait until the danger has passed, like a good princess in her tower. It's nice that I remind you of your friend but… I don't know that calling me brave or strong is entirely accurate."

"You really think you could write about people like that if there were not something like that within you?" North asked. Rowan shrugged. She supposed she always considered the characters she wrote about to be some sort of living thing within her, using her stories as a way to live and breathe. "Do not think yourself weak for needing some help, Rowan. You have faced dark creatures alone and survived. Besides, I hardly call a mortal going up against a magical being and  _tasing him_  weak."

"We're never going to live that down, are we?" Rowan smiled. The sentiment was nice, and she supposed at the end of the day she  _was_  still alive.

But for how much longer? That feeling of dread dropped into her stomach again and she winced before taking another drink in the hopes of distracting herself.

"Probably not, no," North chuckled.

"Who was she, the girl I remind you of?" Rowan asked. Anything for a distraction from the feeling that she was going to die at any moment. Her heart was already racing. She couldn't go into panic now.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was afraid she couldn't get through a panic attack without Jack there.

"Her name was Katherine. I suppose you could say she is the Jamie to my Jack Frost. She was the first child that really believed I was capable of great things," North said. He spoke about the girl fondly and Rowan couldn't help but smile. "How nice for Jack to have both you and Jamie."

"Yeah, well, Jack's not half bad either," Rowan said. She had already told the boy this, but it was still true: She had no idea what would have happened to her the past few weeks if she didn't have him around.

"It has been nice having him around so often with you being here," said North.

"Guess he doesn't visit much?"

"Not particularly. He is independent, still not quite used to being part of group. But, he is coming around. He cares for you very much, you know," North said. Rowan smiled. She did know this, but somehow it was nice to hear from the older man anyway.

"The feeling's mutual. I know that we're not exactly everyone's favorite couple and we haven't been together long but… I really do care about him so much," Rowan said.

"Ha! You do not need to convince me. I think you are good for him. He is happy. Wish you all the best," North said sincerely, finishing off his hot chocolate. Rowan still had a little more than half of hers left. She supposed these mugs were hardly large to someone North's size.

"Thanks, that means a lot. I admit, it's been sort of nice to not have to lie or come up with cover stories for the past two weeks. I guess once I leave this place, that's all over and done with, too," Rowan said with a slight sigh.

"Wish there was something I could do," North said with a frown.

"Thanks," Rowan said. She almost asked if there was  _any_  way to make Jack visible to even just her parents, but she didn't really want to dive into all the logistics about why dating an immortal didn't work again. "But um, did Jack say how long he'd be gone? He said he was checking in with you before leaving."

"Not very long, he is mostly sending a storm over Burgess to keep everyone indoors tonight and is heading back here soon after. Thalia, Terpsichore, and Euterpe should be here soon to get ready to leave for train to be decoys," North said.

"Are you at all nervous about tonight?" Rowan asked. He seemed pretty casual for someone that was going to be marching off to battle later tonight.

"Ha! We have defeated many dark creatures before, we will do it again," said North.

* * *

When Jack touched down back at the pole, he was surprised to find Rowan standing tall and healthy, talking to two of the other Muses and Arachne. Terpsichore and Euterpe were dressed down considerably from their usual flashy attire, although Terpsichore's hair still featured a blue section and Euterpe still sported her faux hawk. They were dressed warmly, with gloves, scarves and hoods in the hopes of blending in with the crowd that would be taking the train along the snow-covered east coast.

"Hey, you look like you're feeling better," Jack said to Rowan, leaning over and fully intending to kiss her before she immediately shoved him back and shook her head violently.

"Whoa, there, Frosty!" she said, reaching into her coat and pulling out a mask. She set it to her face, and when she pulled it away, it was not Rowan that stood before him, but Thalia.

"Oops," Jack winced. "Uh, convincing disguise there."

"I know you have a thing for us Muses, and I mean, who can blame you?" Thalia said, gently patting Jack on the shoulder as Terpsichore and Euterpe snickered behind her. Arachne smiled softly, shaking her head. "And I know that you're Fun and I'm Comedy, but I mean, it would never work out between you and I, Jack. You're just not my type. It's not like you're a bad person or anything, it's just… you know… you've got this  _quality_ that I don't find attractive."

"You mean, a penis?" Jack said, cocking a brow.

"Exactly! Plus you're too skinny and you wear the same pair of pants like all the time and the fact that you've slept with two of my sisters is kind of awkward, so I'm going to have to just, you know, end this right here, no hard feelings," Thalia said, her tone sympathetic.

"Somehow I'll get over it," Jack said with a roll of the eye. He was already certain he would never hear the end of almost kissing Thalia. "Have any of you seen the  _other_  Rowan? She's probably still in her room…"

"The real Rowan? Probably. Mel's somewhere around here, I think. For future reference, Mel's wearing a red sweater, I'm wearing green," Thalia paused to gesture to her ensemble, featuring the previously mentioned green sweater, a coat with a hood, a scarf, jeans, and very high-end looking boots. "And Rowan's… wearing whatever Rowan's wearing, I guess."

Arachne sighed.  _"Green_. I swear. Thalia is in emerald. Melpomene is in alizarin crimson."

"So, green and red," Euterpe said. Arachne sighed again.

"That's good to know," Jack said.

"We can make you a cheat sheet so you don't do anything you might regret," Terpsichore teased.

"Well, when it comes to Mel, it would be more along the lines of 'anything you might regret'…  _again,"_  Euterpe said.

"Are you done?" Jack sighed.

"They'd better be," Calliope said, stepping over to the group and handing an envelope to Terpsichore. Erato followed close behind, looking nervous. "These are your tickets, the train schedule, and some extra money."

"Is everything running on time?" Terpsichore asked.

"Trains only ever run on time if you're running late, in my experience," Thalia said.

"Especially if the person you were meeting is already on board," Erato added.

"They seem to be running fine. You avoided the tracks, didn't you?" Calliope said, addressing her next question to Jack.

"They're ice-free," Jack nodded.

"Good. Now, you've all got your fake IDs? Your stardust gloves?" Calliope said.

"Yes," Euterpe said, holding her hands up to show off the gloves that Arachne had made them. They looked like sturdy leather driving gloves.

"I re-enforced the clothes, too, but the stardust isn't as concentrated as the gloves," Arachne said.

"Cute, though," Terpsichore said, turning around to give the others a better look at her loose-fitting pants and slim-fit jacket. "Easy to move in, thanks again."

"Always you're number one request," Arachne commented.

"All right, make sure you're visible to mortals, lie low, get to Burgess in one piece and we'll be waiting for you guys there," Calliope said, briefly giving each of the other three Muses a hug. Erato and Arachne did the same, Arachne stopping to kiss Thalia briefly before the Muse took out her mask again. Thalia placed her mask to her face and quickly took Rowan's appearance once more, pulling up her hood and re-adjusting her scarf to cover her nose and mouth.

"Good enough for the Shadow People to recognize me?" Thalia asked, her voice muffled from behind the scarf.

"Well, it fooled Jack," Arachne said. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Hopefully  _just_  the Shadow People recognize you as Rowan and no one makes a connection to the missing poster. It's seriously everywhere," he said. He could only imagine the sort of issues they'd have to deal with if suddenly this pretend Rowan was declared no longer missing.

"Yeah, all of you being taken in for questioning is not part of the plan," Erato winced.

"We'll make sure Thalia doesn't draw attention to herself," Euterpe said.

"Who's ready to spend all day on a train?" Thalia said, punching the air with mock-enthusiasm.

"You brought music, right?" Terpsichore whispered to Euterpe, who nodded.

"You guys had better go, I'll find you if something changes, keep an eye out for a bird," Calliope said.

"Oh! Good, good, you haven't left yet," Polyhymnia said, rushing over and pulling Terpsichore, Euterpe, and Thalia into her arms at once. "Oh, travel safe, sisters! Be careful!"

"We will, we will, but we have to, you know,  _leave_  first," Euterpe said.

"Remember, head for the water tower once you get to Burgess," Calliope said.

"We  _know_ ," Terpsichore said, growing visibly impatient as the goodbyes dragged out.

"We've got this under control, seriously, don't waste your worry on us when Clio and Bunny have that super secret project and shit you could be worrying about," Thalia said, linking arms with Terpsichore and Euterpe again as she set her mask to her face. "To the train!"

"Be  _careful_ , Lia," Arachne called as the three disappeared from sight.

"Now what, you guys kill time until it's almost dark there?" Erato asked.

"Last minute details. Right now North and Tooth are coordinating how many yetis are going to Tooth Palace to guard her fairies while she's fighting, Cupid should be here soon, Bunny and Clio are doing last-minute tests, Sanderson is already working on barriers, he's just going to meet us there," Calliope said quickly, ticking everything off her fingers. Jack's head spun just listening to her, and he was suddenly glad that his only duty before nightfall was to send a storm to Burgess.

"Would you mind if I stayed here with you two after they've all gone? I don't much want to wait in my studio alone for news about whether or not everyone's okay," Arachne said to Erato and Polyhymnia.

"Certainly," Polyhymnia nodded.

"I'll catch up with you all later, then," Jack said, beginning to step away from the platform and toward the guest room Rowan was staying in.

"Wait, Jack," Arachne said, walking to the nearby table, covered in small packages. She took one before coming back and handing it to him. "Here you are, they should fit fine, I think."

Jack opened the package to find a pair of fingerless gloves, not unlike the ones Terpsichore and Euterpe had been wearing, but a weathered brown color that matched his pants.

"Stardust?" he asked. Arachne nodded.

"At least now you'll be able to get a hold on them," she said as he pulled them on, flexing his fingers to break in the materal.

"That'll definitely be useful, thanks," Jack said, setting the packaging aside. Being able to potentially pull a Shadow Person away from himself or someone else was a huge advantage he definitely wished he'd had before.

"I was going to make you more padding, but given the short time frame…" Arachne said, trailing off.

"I felt it was better for her to focus on more complex pieces for those that would be fighting on the ground level rather than those of us that would be working from above," Calliope said.

"Makes sense," Jack shrugged. Calliope cocked a brow. "What?"

"Not going to make some sort of quip about how my decision left you as one of the lesser protected beings out there?" she asked.

"Hey I thought I was going out there just with this," Jack said, holding up his staff. "Now I've got this  _and_  stardust gloves, no complaints here."

And with Calliope still looking slightly puzzled, Jack turned his heel and headed for the guest room once more.

* * *

"You  _sure_  you're not nervous?" Rowan asked, carefully examining the gloves that Arachne had given him, now covered in frost. They sat, curled together in the arm chair, Rowan's legs propped over the arm.

She wasn't sure how long it had been since he had gotten back from spreading winter. It was hard to gauge time here, and Rowan had noticed that minutes felt like an eternity. All she knew was that after she had finished with her make-up, Jack had pulled her onto the armchair and they had been sitting there, his head leaning against hers, ever since.

"Maybe a little bit of jitters," he said, shrugging slightly. "It's just a lot that has to come together, I'm used to making everything up as I go along."

"You'll do fine," Rowan said. It was strange that she was just going to have to sit and wait for him to come back, hoping that everything was going well.

"Just as long as Cupid doesn't have to save my ass again, I don't think I'd ever be able to live with myself if that happened  _twice,"_  Jack said.

"Maybe the opportunity will present itself for you to save Cupid's ass, then you two will be even and can go back to belittling each other every time you speak without guilt," Rowan suggested.

"That's true. I haven't made fun of Cupid's age ever since the new moon, it doesn't feel right," Jack smiled.

"Add it to the list of things we'll do once all this is through," Rowan said, his hand still in her grasp. She laced her fingers with his.

"That list is pretty lengthy at this point, isn't it?" said Jack.

"Mmhm, and I want to add watching the sunrise to it," Rowan said. "I miss the sun."

"That's right, you haven't seen it for a while, have you?" Jack said. Rowan shook her head, glancing back at the dark window with a slight frown. "We'll definitely watch the sun rise, then."

"Good," she said, leaning into him further. This was nice, just sitting with him, talking in the dim light of the fire. It was calm and quiet, and Rowan was almost always exhausted anymore.

She wished they could just stay like this. Perhaps go to sleep and forget about everything else. But she knew this was just killing time until he had to leave to Burgess with the others.

"I wish I didn't have to wait here, twiddling my thumbs until you all came back," Rowan sighed.

"That's the safest option," Jack said. "It'll all be over in a few hours."

"Maybe I'll sleep while you're gone, if I'm not too busy worrying over you. It'll make the time pass faster, at least," Rowan said, eyes fixed on the bed and wondering if her mind  _would_  slow enough to let her slumber for a while with Jack gone. She had a hard time calming it on her own anymore.

"What, don't want to hang out with the other hens?" Jack teased. Rowan sighed, knowing he was referring to Erato and Polyhymnia, who were also confined to the pole until it was safe to leave. "Arachne's sticking around too."

"I know I've talked to Erato some while I've been here, and Thalia a little too, but I still don't totally  _trust_  them, you know? I don't want to sit with them for hours doing needlepoint or something until you all get back," Rowan said. Now  _that_  would stress her worried mind out, certainly.

"Fair enough," Jack said, glancing to the clock on the mantle. "We'd better head out, the meeting before we finally leave to do this thing is about to start."

Rowan took a look at the clock as well and sighed. She didn't want this time with Jack to end yet. But, she supposed, she they would have nothing but time soon enough.

Rowan stood from the armchair and stumbled as the world suddenly spun and sharp pain shot through her head. She groaned and immediately sat on the bed.

"You okay?" Jack asked, getting up from the armchair as well.

"I think I stood up too fast, another headache," Rowan said, hand to the side of her head. "You go ahead, I'll catch up in a minute, I think I've just gotta wait for it to pass."

"You sure?" Jack said, tucking her hair away from her eyes. She smiled, swatting his hand away as she often did when she was sleeping.

"Yeah, Jack, this has happened a few times since the new moon, I'll be fine. Don't be late to the meeting because of me," she said.

"Sure you'll be able to make it there once it passes?"

_"Yes_ , I've managed to get around without you before," Rowan pointed out. Jack reluctantly nodded, pecking her lips briefly before heading for the door. Rowan set her head to the pillow and watched the door swing behind him, wincing slightly as it bounced open again, but slightly. Hopefully none of the elves would take the opportunity to waltz in and watch her. Something about her seemed to fascinate them and they often seemed eager when she'd try to work on a drawing.

Maybe this whole time they had wanted to hear a story. Maybe she reminded  _them_  of that Katherine girl that North had mentioned, too.

Maybe Rowan would spend some of the time while she was waiting for Jack to come back trying to tell the elves a story. Maybe re-telling one of her old ones would help her find it in herself to work on any of her new ones.

Rowan shifted slightly, wondering for a moment if she shouldn't just skip the meeting. It wasn't like she was going to be marching into battle or anything, so she didn't really need to know any last minute changes or where everyone was going to be positioned or anything.

Perhaps she should just try to go to sleep now.

She sighed, pulling herself upright again, taking note that the world hadn't spun that time. This was all supposed to keep  _her_  safe, in the long run. Even if she wasn't involved in the battle, she was at least part of the reason it was happening. The least she could do was show up to the meeting and stand awkwardly next to Jack.

She rose to her feet and straightened the dark purple sweater she wore. Just a few more hours and she wouldn't have to worry about meetings anymore. She just had to get through the next few hours.

As Rowan reached the door, still slightly ajar, she stopped short, hearing someone speaking in hushed tones on the other side. She recognized the hoarse voice speaking as Melpomene's and felt uneasy almost immediately.

_"Is it completely necessary to do this_ tonight _, Pitch? There's going to be so much more going on, it's a delicate plan as it is."_

_"It has to be tonight; if everything goes according to plan the Shadow People will no longer be a threat after tonight and I need Jamie Bennett's spirit destroyed. We've been over this. If it isn't tonight, then I'll need to re-think my strategy entirely."_

Rowan's heart sank, she felt like she might be sick again. Forget being dizzy, she could already see herself coughing up that black substance again.

Pitch was planning something with the Shadow People that involved having them feed on Jamie's spirit. Her eyes widened, remembering that terrible feeling of impending doom, of dread, of complete and utter hopelessness that had steadily consumed her the night of the new moon.

_"I'm just worried about pulling everything off without tipping off the Guardians and the other Muses is all."_

_"The chaos will be our best cover, the best opportunity we have. This happens tonight,_ do not _get cold feet on me, Melpomene."_

_"I'm not, as always,_ I'm _the one thinking of strategy while you think only of revenge, this sort of thinking will only lead you to failure! Again! And I won't be on the losing team."_

_"There will be only victory as long as we stick to our plan. Trust me."_

Rowan's heart raced, she found it harder to breathe.

She wouldn't wish what happened to her on her worst enemy, and they wanted to do this to her little cousin?

"No," Rowan mumbled, gasping for air.

_"Trusting you seems foolish, all things considered,"_  Melpomene said in what seemed to be a teasing tone.

_"Perhaps. But it's your best option, is it not? You know that, you've always known that. Eliminate Jamie Bennett's belief, then defeat the Guardians. Defeating the Guardians leaves an easy opportunity to do the same to the Muses; they'll no longer exist and you will no longer be under Apollo's control. No one will help you with your voice while you answer to him, they're too afraid to upset him."_

_"Right. I help you destroy the child's belief and I'll get to sing again. I told you, I'll help. I just want everything to—what's wrong?"_

_"I feel someone's fear…"_

Rowan took a quick step back as the door to the room flung open, Pitch standing tall and intimidating on the other side. Melpomene lurked close by, wearing the red sweater, fingerless gloves, scarf and jeans that Arachne had provided her to better disguise herself as Rowan, a coat draped over her arm.

"What did you hear?" Pitch hissed. He turned to Melpomene. "I thought she was at the meeting already!"

"That was Thalia in green on the platform, and that was a few  _hours_  ago," Melpomene sighed. Rowan was still stepping away from the pair, gasping for air as she did. This was not the time to have a panic attack; this was the absolute worst time to have a panic attack.

But all she could think was that she was going to die, she was going to die by the hands of the Boogie Man or somehow by the Shadow People. Death was certain, absolutely certain.

And what was worse, Jamie was going to suffer too. After all the efforts put forward by the Guardians and the Muses to make sure nothing like that would happen, it was going to anyway. Jamie was going to be the first victim, a strategic hit.

He was just a kid! A sweet, creative, bright, wonderful kid. And they were going to destroy everything that made him shine.

"You can't do this," Rowan choked.

Pitch opened his mouth to speak but Melpomene's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let me take care of this," the Muse said.

"If she breathes a  _word_ , we're  _both—"_  Pitch started.

"She won't. I'll make sure of it. After all, we're  _sisters_  and sisters keep secrets for each other," Melpomene said, casting Rowan a short glare.

"Fine, take care of it," Pitch said, stepping aside so that Melpomene could enter the room. He walked toward the platform where the meeting was taking place and Melpomene closed the door before turning back to Rowan.

"He's my cousin, he's my little cousin, you can't do this. I—I was there, I was there in the hospital the day he was born! He listened to my stories before they were any good, he's the little brother I never had  _you can't do this!"_ Rowan said quickly, having a difficult time catching her breath as she went frantically.

She had to tell Jack. She had to tell North. Someone, anyone, she had to tell them what was going on so that they could put a stop to this.

"Calm down, Sister," Melpomene said, setting her hands to Rowan's shoulders. Rowan shrugged away quickly, stumbling back against the bed. She didn't like the idea of this Muse touching her right now and eyed her suspiciously the whole way.

"I can't let you do this, I—" Rowan said, quickly pulling herself to her feet and heading for the door.

"Listen to me," Melpomene said. Before Rowan realized exactly what was happening, she was pinned to the wall next to the door, Melpomene's grip strong on her shoulders. "Listen to me,  _Sister."_

Rowan found herself meeting Melpomene's eyes and feeling suddenly compelled to listen to every word she had to say.

"Nothing is going to happen to Jamie Bennett. I won't let anything happen to him, do you understand me?" Melpomene said, never once breaking eye contact.

"I just  _heard_  you saying otherwise!" Rowan choked.

"Calm down, breathe," Melpomene said. Rowan took a long, deep breath and urged herself to cooperate, even if it just meant cooperating long enough for Melpomene to put her guard down. She had to tell Jack what was going on.

Or, did she? Maybe Melpomene was right, maybe nothing bad would happen to Jamie—

Rowan eyed Melpomene's grip on her and groaned, realizing what she was doing. Rowan's mind had been reduced to a plaything. Again.

"Let go of me," Rowan said, still forcing her breaths to stay steady as her trembling hands reached for Melpomene's thin wrists. Rowan had to keep her mind, she had to tell Jack what was going on so that Jamie would be okay.

"Listen. We need Pitch for this plan to work. We need the Shadow People to trust him and more importantly for your cousin, we need Pitch to trust  _me._  I'm telling him what he wants to hear. I'm not going to hand your cousin over to him, I'm just playing along to get him to Burgess and help with the attack on the Shadow People because we  _need_  him there to take care of the security cameras and we  _needed_  him to cut this deal to get them there in the first place," Melpomene said.

It made sense, didn't it? Melpomene telling Pitch that she would help him when she had no intention of doing so? That would work out.

No, no,  _no!_  Clearly this was just an attempt to get Rowan to trust her and Rowan had heard enough about Melpomene to know better than to do that.

"Why would you care?" Rowan said.

"Because in the long run protecting Jamie Bennett means protecting the Muses. Besides, he's your cousin, he's under our protection the same way Cupid is," Melpomene said.

"Since when do you care about the Muses?"

"Since I'm one of them. Trust me, Rowan,  _trust me,"_  Melpomene said, moving her hands to the sides of Rowan's head and looking her straight in the eye. Rowan cringed, feeling her head spin.

"Stop—!"

"You trust, me, don't you?" Melpomene said.

_Yes_ , was the answer Rowan's mind immediately provided. Yes, she absolutely trusted Melpomene.

Melpomene was a Muse, Rowan was the Mortal Muse, they were supposed to trust each other, that's how this sort of thing worked, right?

"Stop," Rowan said weakly, though she couldn't say why.

"Do you trust me? Look me in the eye."

Rowan met those cold grey eyes and said what every fiber of her being was telling her to say, "Yes. I trust you."

"You don't believe I'll let any harm come to Jamie, do you?"

"No, I don't," Rowan said.  _Melpomene wouldn't do that, you can trust her._

"If you tell the Guardians, Pitch will cause a scene. The whole plan will go to hell, you will be stuck here  _at least_  another month and Pitch will just find another way to hurt your cousin. A lot of good can be done tonight if you keep your mouth shut, do you understand?" Melpomene said.

Another month here was a terrifying concept. How long did you have to be missing before you were presumed dead? Melpomene had this under control. Everything was going to go okay, Jamie would be fine, everything was going to work out.

"Are you going to tell the Guardians?" Melpomene said.

"No," Rowan said. It would ruin everything. Melpomene was right, if the others knew about Pitch's betrayal, the plan would be scrapped for the sake of caution, in order to take care of that matter instead.

"Are you going to tell any of the other Muses or Cupid? Arachne?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell Jack?"

Rowan swallowed. Jack didn't really need to know, did he? He would  _certainly_  cause a scene; everything would go to hell immediately. Besides, nothing would stop Pitch from slipping away to lead the Shadow People to Jamie anyway.

Nothing, that is, except Melpomene, who Rowan trusted completely

"No. I'm not going to tell Jack."

"And why is that?"

"Because I trust you," Rowan said.

"Exactly. You can trust me," Melpomene said, finally removing her hands from Rowan's head. "Everything is going to be all right, Sister."

"Sister," Rowan said, nodding slightly.

"I'm going to the meeting now, you should come soon, too," Melpomene said, opening the door and stepping outside. Rowan watched her leave for a moment before stepping away from the wall, adjusting her sweater again.

She felt eerily calm. The thought that  _there's nothing to worry about_  kept flitting back and forth through her mind. Everything was going to be all right. There was no reason to worry about anything.

But these thoughts didn't feel like her own. Rowan frowned, knowing logically that she shouldn't believe her thoughts but unable to say why.

She trusted Melpomene, so there was no reason to be suspicious.

Rowan stepped outside the room, keeping a hand to the wall to steady herself as she headed for the main platform near the globe. The meeting was already in progress, Calliope pointing to different parts of a map of Burgess.

"Cupid, you and Jack will be situated on the water tower, here. Clio, you and I will be on this office building here, and North will be over here, with his yetis here," Calliope was saying as Rowan took her place near Jack, taking hold of his arm in order to keep herself steady. She made eye contact with Melpomene across the way before glancing back at the map without another word.

"Doing better?" Jack whispered. Rowan simply nodded.

"Tooth, I want you and Urania high in the trees over here, Bunny, you be ready in this alleyway. Thalia, Terpsichore, and Euterpe will be coming up this way," Calliope said, tracing her finger down a path leading toward the open area surrounding the water tower where this battle was set to take place. "So Mel, you and Pitch should be standing by over here, be ready to jump in as a distraction. You and Thalia disorienting them is our first move, then Sanderson comes in from above and Bunny and North hit them from the ground. After that it's the rest of us that can fly."

"And if we have to use our back-up plan," Bunny said, referring of course to the stardust bomb he and Clio had developed, "Everyone, duck behind these buildings, cover your ears, shut your eyes."

He pointed to a few buildings on the map, the closest ones to where this would all take place.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," Clio said. "If you can't get behind a building, get on the ground, shut your eyes, cover your head."

"Are there any questions or concerns before we leave?" North asked, glancing around at the others.

It occurred to Rowan that Melpomene and Pitch were watching her. They were wondering if she would take this opportunity to blab all, to expose their plan, she was sure.

But she trusted Melpomene. Rowan didn't utter a word.

When no one else voiced concern either, Calliope said, "Everyone has the armor Arachne made?" Rowan took note for the first time that Calliope wasn't in her usual elaborate gown, but rather a similarly iridescent black top and pants. She supposed that would be easier to move around in than a strapless dress. The other Muses dressed mostly the same, save for Melpomene who was wearing the casual clothes for her disguise as Rowan.

Aside from that, Bunny noticeably wore a few more bits of padding than he usually did. North wore a pair of thick gloves and beneath his coat was a chest plate of some kind. Most of the others simply donned an extra pair of gloves, though Tooth was wearing a small chest plate as well. They all murmured a  _yes_  at Calliope's question.

"All right, the sun sets soon, let's go, Sanderson will be finishing the barriers now," Calliope said.

"To the sleigh!" North said, beginning to walk off. A few members of the party followed. Bunny took some more (including a fair amount of yetis) down a tunnel.

"I'm riding with North," Jack said, turning to Rowan. "So, I'll see you in a few hours, okay?"

"Okay. Be careful," Rowan said.

"That's not any fun," he smirked. "But I'll try."

"Good," she said, managing to smile.

"I could use a kiss for luck though, you know, I  _am_  marching off into battle here," Jack said, running his fingers though his hair and casting her a winning smile. Rowan rolled her eyes, leaning forward to press her lips against his. As always, frost coated her mouth and her teeth grew cold.

They only pulled away when they heard North shout, "Jack! Come on!"

"Go kick some Shadow Person ass," Rowan said.

"I will," Jack said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said. And with that, Jack kicked off the ground, offering her a brief wave before flying off in the direction that North had left.

The only ones that hadn't left yet were Melpomene and Pitch, who eyed Rowan with an eerie sense of satisfaction. She met Melpomene's eyes again as the others that would be staying behind each took a seat and began talking among themselves.

Melpomene mouthed  _thank you_  before setting her mask to her face. In the next instant, she and Pitch had disappeared from sight.

Rowan was left standing at the center of the platform, head pounding as a feeling of dread consumed her.


	59. Famous Last Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while again, and I apologize! Action scenes always make me pretty stumped, I hope you enjoy what I have for you this chapter.
> 
> Thanks everyone who's stuck with me this far, I can't believe the next chapter is sixty! This story was not supposed to be this long. Oops.

_Cupid had pointed the numbers out ever since he had joined their ranks._

_What if there were just too many?_

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Nine: Famous Last Words**

* * *

Jack and Cupid settled themselves on the side of the water tower furthest from the full moon, hiding in shadow as they waited to leap into action like planned. The sun had set and the train wasn't due for a little while. The delay gave them time to take their positions without the Shadow People noticing, as well as allowed the citizens of Burgess to get off the incredibly icy streets.

Thankfully, Burgess was a small, mostly uneventful town. Most businesses had been closed today anyway, as it was a Sunday, and given that most would have to be at work or school the next day, there certainly wasn't about to be anyone out late.

Or, at least, that's what they were counting on.

Jack was perched on the railing circling the tower, watching the empty field below for any movement. Cupid leaned against the tower itself, hoping to conceal his wings in its silhouette, fumbling through his pockets for something. Jack glanced back when he heard a strange clicking sound and found that Cupid had pulled out a lighter and was attempting to get it to stay lit long enough to ignite the end of a cigarette, perched between his lips.

"Want one?" he offered between clenched teeth, still trying to light it.

"Uh, nah, smoke and fire don't really agree with me," Jack said, shaking his head slightly.

"Do me a favor," Cupid said, pausing to take a drag once the cigarette finally lit, "Don't tell Tooth, or she'll give me a lecture about how bad it is for my teeth and gums."

"Yeah, it might stunt your growth, too—Oh, wait," Jack said, unable to help his smirk.

Pocketing his lighter Cupid rolled his eyes and blew smoke in Jack's direction. "You know how easy it would be for me to shove you off that railing?"

"Wow, if only I could fly or something," said Jack, waving the smoke away, swearing he saw Cupid smile, if slightly.

"On second thought, maybe you  _should_  tell Tooth. At least to lecture me she'd have to, you know,  _talk_  to me," the winged-boy said, flicking aside some ash.

"Still avoiding you, hm?" Jack asked, eyes falling to their surroundings again.

"Sure is." Another drag of the cigarette. In the distance, a bird flew from the roof of a few buildings to some nearby trees. Jack assumed it was Calliope checking in on everyone.

"Well. Hopefully things'll be less tense once this is all over," Jack said. After all, they were still letting Cupid help out with this whole thing. As far as Jack was concerned, at least, Cupid could be trusted.

Unless he had some kind of traitorous trick up his sleeve, but Jack somehow doubted that. Screwing over the Guardians at this point meant screwing over the Muses and Cupid had nothing but ties with the Muses. Strong ties, family ties.

Family meant something, right?

"Hopefully," Cupid said. "Do we have a contingency plan in case they don't make it here from the train station before running into big trouble?"

"Moonbeams, they're following at a distance," Jack said. Cupid nodded in acknowledgement, taking another drag.

The minutes dragged by slowly after that, giving plenty of time for nerves to build up as Jack and Cupid continued making brief, idle conversation in the meantime. It was strange being stuck here with the winged boy.

Cupid hadn't really been anything to Jack in the past but he had stepped up and saved both Jack and Rowan during the new moon. They had managed a few downright civil conversations since then.

So were they friends now or something? There was noticeably less malice in their comments made at the other's expense. Jack wasn't sure.

The bird from earlier landed on the railing beside Jack, feathers iridescent and smooth. It was Calliope, as he had assumed. "They're five minutes out, be ready," she said, her voice quiet but clear. Turning toward Cupid, the bird seemed suddenly unamused before saying, "Put it out, Eros, the light at the end will give you away."

Cupid rolled his eyes, taking a final drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the nearby snow. Calliope flew off again.

"I hate waiting," Cupid mumbled. Jack nodded. It was going to be the longest five minutes ever, he was certain.

This was all so different than when he and the Guardians had gone up against Pitch the year before. That had all been so sudden, with battles and complications showing up and demanding attention in quick succession.

There wasn't a lot of time to plan and dwell then. There was just reacting.

Now they had five more incredibly long minutes to consider all the what-if's, all the things that could go wrong, all the ways to screw things up.

Jack had felt fairly confident about everything until now, now that it was so close and had been so meticulously planned. There was so much at stake.

Four minutes, thirty seconds…

* * *

When Thalia eyed the black nightmare sand levitating calmly before the ATM camera that they had just walked past, she pulled the scarf down from her nose at last to fully reveal her face. Or rather, to fully reveal Rowan's face.

The street was deserted and quiet, just as they had hoped and planned for. It was a bit eerie.

"We're almost there," Euterpe said, trying to sound reassuring. She and Terpsichore walked on either side of her, ever alert.

The plan was to lead the Shadow People to that empty field, but there was still the treat of them making a move before they got that far, rather than just quietly following. Thalia couldn't help but feel as though they were being watched already and wondered if the other Muses felt the same.

Maybe it was just nerves.

Their breath fogged before them as they went, carefully watching the pavement before them, coated in ice. Euterpe and Thalia had each slipped and almost fallen several times. Terpsichore had slipped only once, and had handled it so gracefully that Thalia almost felt some disdain for her.

What did she expect? She was the Muse of dance, and her balance was rivaled by none.

As they continued their careful steps (and silently cursed Jack for all the ice, though they knew it was only to assure that the civilians were all indoors) the streetlights dimmed for a moment before illuminating fully again.

Dim light, full light. Dim light, full light. This continued for a time, the sisters exchanging glances before increasing their pace. Either it was a coincidental glitch with the power, or the Shadow People were certainly around.

Thalia knew their luck wasn't good enough for a glitch.

They passed a light and it began to flicker before going out. The light they had yet to pass began to flicker as well. When Thalia turned to look back, she found that the street behind them was dark, lit only by moonlight.

This was it; the Shadow People were in pursuit.

"Come on!" Terpsichore said, grabbing Thalia's arm and tugging her along as they began to run. They weren't far off from the field and knew some running might be required.

Oh, but everything was still so icy. The salt that had been spread by the city had barely helped and Thalia found her feet sliding beneath her as they stumbled along. The lights continued to violently flicker and go out as they passed.

Euterpe finally fell, groaning as her hip hit the ice and she skid a few yards forward. Thalia and Terpsichore did their best to scoop her upright without falling themselves.

Thalia chanced another glance back, finding that dark figures were emerging from the darkness pursuing them, much like she would imagine a zombie bursting from their grave.

The fast, really lethal, foaming at the mouth kind of zombie, not those slow groaning ones that dragged a foot along as they went. It was always important to specify the kind of zombie.

Was this what Rowan had to deal with during the New Moon? With even less light? What Jack had to deal with? Thalia shuddered, suddenly feeling very badly for the two as they began rushing away again.

She would have to try and remember to send them a card or something. Did Hallmark have a card for "hey thanks for dealing with this scary shit so long so that we didn't have to?"

"There it is!" Terpsichore said, pointing ahead. Sure enough, their turn to get to the field was coming up. Thalia just hoped that Melpomene was ready to go.

Something caught her ankle and Thalia watched with dread as the pavement came closer and closer until her wrist hit the curb at full force, her head meeting the street.

As pain shot through her skull and wrist, Thalia couldn't help but feel strangely… nostalgic.

She was pulled back, sliding quickly against the ice. Her heart raced. This certainly wasn't supposed to happen. Euterpe and Terpsichore turned quickly, almost synchronized, to bound back after her. There was nothing to grab on to as she dragged, and when Thalia tried to move her left hand at all, she winced in pain.

Had she broken her wrist? She knew her wrist had taken most of the impact of her fall but how hard had she fallen?

Euterpe grabbed that hand as Terpsichore took hold of her jacket. Thalia couldn't help but cry out at the pain again as she was tugged hastily out of the grasp of the Shadow People.

She'd barely gotten to her feet again before they were running once more. Thalia wasn't great at running in the first place, always relying on her ability to change locations at will. Not to mention, she was still disguised as someone else, and Rowan's body was strange to her. Her legs were longer, her weight distributed differently. She hadn't had much opportunity while sitting on the train to get used to moving around in it.

At least with longer legs, she seemed to move a bit faster, if not clumsily.

There was almost another fall as the three Muses attempted to make a sharp turn down the path leading to the field where the others would be. There was something wonderfully satisfying about the way the snow crunched beneath their boots the closer they got.

Snow wasn't exactly ideal terrain to be running on either, but basically everything beat ice right now.

At the next meeting, Thalia vowed to suggest that they only ever have battles in pleasant, summer months in the future.

"Go, go, go, go!" Terpsichore said, practically shoving Thalia ahead. She kept running as Euterpe and Terpsichore stopped, turning back and preparing to finally fight the pursuing Shadow People directly.

Thalia ran and ran with all her might, reminding herself that soon enough she'd be able to stop as she gasped for air in the meantime. Up ahead, from the trees, came more Shadow People. A quick glance around made her cringe.

As far as she could tell, it wasn't just the Shadows that had been pursuing them on the streets. This field was entirely surrounded by a sea of inky, black shadows now.

Pitch had told them to bring all their manpower. They had taken that advice to heart.

Nearly to the center of the field, Thalia reached inside her coat and pulled out her grinning comedy mask, setting it to her face.

She disappeared.

* * *

As soon as Thalia vanished from sight, Sandy's shining dream cloud began to descend and with a flick of his wrist he took out a line of Shadow People that had been pursuing her a moment ago. Various dream creatures emerged from the skies, fantastic beings of all kinds, rushing to plow into the mass of darkness waiting for them.

With a laugh as jolly as one could expect, given the circumstances, North burst forward from his hiding place next, sword in each hand and a troop of yetis following close behind. He moved swiftly, slicing through the shadows effortlessly.

He looked absolutely joyous, as though there was no other way he would rather spend his Sunday night.

Bunny's boomerangs appeared before he did. His dream sand-covered egg statues approached slowly, but took out any shadow in their path. Bunny moved quickly, catching and throwing his boomerangs in quick succession before taking up post near Terpsichore and Euterpe who were holding their own but quickly becoming overwhelmed.

"Looking for me?" Melpomene called, her voice loud but still hoarse as she appeared near the base of the water tower, looking entirely convincing as Rowan Sawyer. The great masses of Shadows barely hesitated before bounding after her, seeming barely phased by the fact that she hadn't been there a moment before.

They came closer, closer, and closer still until at the last possible moment Melpomene turned, covered her face with her mask, and vanished from the spot.

Now completely surrounded by easy targets, Jack and Cupid abandoned their places at the water tower, weapons at the ready. Swift movements of Jack's wrist left bright light to pursue the Shadow People, while shots from Cupid's arrows left bursts of light that easily destroyed entire groups.

But these gaps were quickly filled by more Shadow People. They climbed the water tower, reaching for Jack and Cupid, who were quick to fly from their reach.

"Over here!" Thalia called, appearing as Rowan near the woods. Less Shadow People approached this time, noticeably more suspicious in their movements as they spread out.

It had to be more than obvious by now that they had been lured into a trap, but Rowan's soul was still a grand prize to be obtained, apparently worth a few casualties.

Tooth flew forward from the woods, sword at the ready, followed quickly by Urania. Urania flew gracefully, followed by a formation of moonbeams that obeyed her every signal, her every command. It was almost a lovely sight, the way they almost danced through the ranks of the Shadow People.

Tooth moved swiftly, no hint of hesitation in sight as she wielded the sword. It was as though she had never taken a break.

Thalia disappeared from sight.

Clio flew down low, guns of her own design in each hand. Shots from her stardust bullets left bursts of light, much like Cupid's stardust arrows. While the bullets could be fired in quick succession, the bursts of light were much smaller.

Everyone was moving quickly, efficiently, but for every gap in the Shadow People's ranks that they made, it seemed to fill again all too quickly.

"Yeti needs back-up, two o'clock," Calliope called, flying by Jack and Cupid. The water tower had been established as twelve early in the meeting and Jack wasted little time heading for the yeti in question. He was hard to see, pulled to the ground and his entire form consumed by shadows.

Jack sent a blast of light forward and managed to clear off the Shadow People that had been attempting to devour that yeti's spirit. But the yeti tried to stand and clumsily fell again, noticeably shaking.

A few more blasts kept away more pursuing shadows but they wouldn't let up. Jack didn't understand why they were so relentless about this particular yeti.

He wondered if the yetis weren't as strong against their attacks as the Guardians and the Muses were.

A barrier of dream sand appeared around the yeti and Sandy drifted by, giving Jack a thumbs-up before continuing on to the battle. The yeti would be safe for now.

Jack tried to focus on the battle overall again.

Melpomene and Thalia were disappearing and reappearing in quick succession now, leaving many of the Shadow People to rapidly change direction. It was giving the Guardians and Muses plenty of opportunity to take them out.

But the Shadow People were still greatly outnumbering them and as Jack took a moment to glance around again, he took note that there didn't seem to be much of an end in sight. They just kept re-appearing and re-appearing.

Cupid flew in low to begin quickly retrieving his arrows to shoot again, having run out. Clio could be seen having holstered one gun in order to re-load the other.

Cupid had pointed the numbers out ever since he had joined their ranks.

What if there were just too many?

Cupid swore, having been tugged down to the ground when grasping for one of his arrows. The Shadow People immediately began clinging to his wings as he tried shaking them off.

Jack flew low, staff at the ready and swinging hard, sending out a strong burst of light. He had barely cleared the area of the Shadow People that had been holding on to Cupid before Urania flew in and grabbed at Cupid's collar, dragging him back into the air.

Clumsily, the boy began to fly again.

"Are you all right?" Urania said.

"Yeah I'm fine, a little dizzy," Cupid replied, the arrow he had been after clutched in his grasp.

"Good work, Jack," Urania said as she left Cupid's side and flew by.

"Thanks," Cupid called after Jack before knocking his arrow and firing again. Jack only nodded before swinging his staff to fire again as well.

Another glance around. It was hard to say if any progress had actually been made.

"There's too many!" Terpsichore called, echoing Jack's earlier thoughts. Glancing her way, he saw that a trembling Euterpe was lying in a dream sand barrier, much like the yeti from earlier. It would at least keep them safe until they could be treated properly, and since they weren't mortal they would most certainly recover.

But how many more would fall?

Another quick glance around the area. North seemed to be limping, Bunny was a bit uneasy on his feet, but they were still fighting strong.

For how much longer, though?

* * *

Melpomene had barely appeared beside Pitch when he took her by the arm and pulled her along behind the nearby building.

"Now's the time," he said as she put her mask to her face and quickly took on her own appearance rather than Rowan's.

"Are they still coming? Do they still trust you now that they know you've lead them into a trap?" Melpomene asked. She glanced around the corner, back at the chaos in progress and watched as Thalia continued to disappear and re-appear as planned.

"I've explained that my insistence that they bring their full ranks was to give them a strategic advantage against the Guardians' silly plan. The Guardians are noticeably overwhelmed, so the Shadow People thankfully believe me," Pitch explained. Melpomene shook her head. Of course Pitch had managed to make this work to his advantage.

He was generally good at that.

"Now's as good a time as any, before something drastic happens," Pitch said. Melpomene nodded. If the Guardians and the Muses decided to use the bomb, there wouldn't be any Shadow People left to pursue this side plan with.

This betrayal of the alliance had to happen now.

"Let's go," she said. Pitch led the way to a group of Shadow People who stood in wait. As they all continued at a swift pace to get across town to Jamie Bennett's house, Melpomene found herself glancing at the Shadow People suspiciously, suddenly quite glad that the clothes she was wearing were re-enforced with stardust.

What if they decided to turn on them, instead?

Hopefully Jamie Bennett was still a far more enticing prize for them. They could use the boost in strength his spirit would give them for this battle anyway. Melpomene was sure that Pitch had brought both of these points up when explaining how exactly he was still on their side while setting them up to walk into a trap.

The house was on the corner, with an old wooden fence surrounding it. It was covered in red panels and stood at two stories high. The lights were out, save for the dream sand that twisted protectively around it, and all was quiet except for the faint sounds of the battle in the distance.

"Just go inside and send him out. He'll do anything you ask if you look like his cousin," Pitch said.

"I want to stay inside the barrier when I send him out. I don't really want to watch, and it will be safer for me inside," Melpomene bargained, glancing Pitch's way.

"Fair enough," Pitch shrugged. Melpomene nodded, setting her mask to her face in order to take on Rowan's appearance again. In the next instant she was inside the Bennett's home, on the second floor, eying the doors she had to choose from. Quietly, she pushed open the door closest to her.

A nightlight. A dollhouse. Butterflies on the wall. A mess of blonde hair dangled from the edge of the bed as the pillow lay discarded on the floor. At some point the girl had kicked off her blankets and turned entirely sideways on her bed.

Dream sand twisted above her head, taking the form of hopping rabbits.

"Sleep well, little girl. Tonight isn't your night," Melpomene whispered softly before gently closing the door.

A few more quiet paces found the bathroom. The next door had to be the boy's. Melpomene made sure her mask was securely tucked away before opening the door.

Drawings were pinned to the wall, much like at Rowan's apartment. Melpomene eyed one of Rowan's missing posters on the desk. There were lots of books and toys typical of a little boy with a big imagination.

The little boy in question was sleeping soundly.

As Melpomene carefully closed the door behind her, she kept her focus on the dog, however, that had begun to stir at the foot of the bed.

"Shhh," Melpomene whispered, approaching the dog and petting her head gently. The greyhound wagged her tail, licking Melpomene's cheek and whining happily.

"Shhh," Melpomene said again. The dog watched her curiously as she leaned over Jamie and gently shook his shoulder.

"Jamie," she whispered. The boy stirred and rubbed his eyes. He had barely opened them and glanced her way before he sat upright, suddenly completely alert.

"Rowan!" he exclaimed, smile on his face as he pulled Melpomene into a hug. Awkwardly, Melpomene hugged back, hoping he wouldn't notice her hesitation.

"Shh, shh, you have to be quiet," she whispered. "We can't wake anyone."

"But you're back! Everything is okay now right? Everyone's been so worried and Jack said you might be back soon," Jamie said, unable to hide the excitement in his voice as Melpomene continued to shush him. "We have to wake up my mom, we have to call Aunt Dot, let everyone know you're okay!"

"No, no, not yet," Melpomene said, shaking her head.

"Why not?" Jamie asked, shoulders slumping as Abbey slid her head below Melpomene's arm, hoping for attention. Melpomene pet the dog gently.

"Because everything isn't okay yet, but it will be soon, I promise," Melpomene said, still careful to keep her voice at a whisper to keep the hoarseness from being too noticeable.

"What do you mean?" Jamie asked. "What's going on?"

"I need you to do something for me," Melpomene said. "It's going to sound sort of silly, but I need you to do exactly what I ask you to do, it's very important, okay?"

"Okay," Jamie said, visibly puzzled. "What is it?"

* * *

Rowan closed the door to the guest room and locked it, urging herself to take slow, deep breaths as her head ached and her mind spun. So many thoughts seemed to be occurring at once that she wasn't sure what to focus on; she seemed to be fighting herself.

_I can trust Melpomene. Melpomene is a Muse. I am the Mortal Muse. She is my sister._

_No, she isn't! None of them are my sister! I am an only child! My parents tried and failed and tried again until I was born, the_ only child _they were able to have. Just because they say they're sisters doesn't—_

_Melpomene is my sister, the Muses are my sisters and I can trust—_

_They have manipulated my thoughts before; she just did it again!_

The pain shooting through her skull brought her back to the night of the new moon, back to sitting on the cold stone floors of the North Pole and becoming overwhelmed with thoughts, ideas, and emotions. It was all too much then and this wasn't much better as tears sprang to her eyes and she lowered herself to the ground again, too dizzy from pain to stay upright.

"Stop, stop, stop," she cried, clutching her head and trying to think of something else, anything else. She tried to count by threes, she tried to remember vocabulary from her last art history test, but nothing would distract from her frantic thoughts, nothing would make them stop.

_Melpomene can be trusted. She is part of this alliance._

_Melpomene has hurt people in this alliance in the past. It doesn't mean anything to her._

Rowan was starting to notice that the thoughts in Melpomene's favor seemed to be echoing through her mind in that particular Muse's voice. They didn't feel like Rowan's own thoughts. It was a very similar, uneasy, sensation to the one she'd had after the new moon and all the Muses had manipulated her thoughts.

_Melpomene won't let anything bad happen to Jamie._

_She. Is. The. Muse. Of._ _**Tragedy.** _

_She's double-crossing Pitch._

_No, she's double-crossing the Guardians, the Muses, and by extension, me._

_Jamie is going to be okay, Jamie is going to be just fine._

_No he isn't, I can't trust her, I can't trust her, I have no reason to trust her. The only thing she did was keep me from interfering with her plan._

Pain seemed to subside, Rowan lowered a hand from her head as she continued her deep breaths. The thoughts she had felt less strained now. They felt less like a strange reflex and more like her own thoughts. But she could barely take solace in this, as her stomach sank at the realization of what was happening.

_Jamie is in trouble._

_As long as the Guardians and other Muses don't know about this, Jamie is in trouble._

_I didn't say anything and now Jamie is in trouble._

They had already been gone for a while now, what if it was already too late? What if, as she sat safe and sound in the North Pole, far away from the action, Jamie was being served up to those terrible shadows to be fed upon?

What if, by not saying anything, she had helped seal his fate?

Rowan pulled herself to her feet, turning to the door and stopping short. What was she supposed to do? Tell the other Muses that weren't allowed to leave? They probably trusted Melpomene and wouldn't be much help anyway, being grounded. Tell Arachne? She wasn't exactly battle-ready either. Should Rowan tell a Yeti and hope that the messenger would get there on time?

For the second time, Rowan found herself wishing that the Guardians had cell phones. Even if she could get a message to them, what were the odds that they would be able to leave the battle long enough to help? What if none of them were in any shape to help?

Rowan groaned, feeling entirely helpless as she rejected every course of action she came up with. There had to be  _some_  way to assure that Jamie would be safe! She wouldn't be able to live with herself if he wasn't.

Frustrated, the girl kicked the leg of the bedside table before taking a seat on the bed. The table shifted just enough for the drawer to slide open slightly. When she went to close it, she paused, sliding it open instead.

With shaking hands, Rowan pulled out the snow globe she had borrowed. This was it; this was her express ticket to Burgess.

But then what? Rowan frowned. Did she run frantically, hoping not to run into Shadow People before she ran into one of the Guardians or the Muses? Hope that whoever she ran into would take her seriously and come help before it was too late? It was the same issue with sending a yeti, just with a sick, mortal messenger.

But what else was she supposed to do? Go save Jamie herself? She wasn't a heroine; she had just been over this!

Rowan paused, eying the bruises on her arms.

The Shadow People were at Burgess because they thought Rowan was there. They wanted to feed on her soul; they wanted her powers.

Maybe she could offer a trade. Rowan Sawyer, the so-called Mortal Muse, in exchange for sparing Jamie Bennett's soul.

Rowan's stomach immediately turned at the idea. The others had told her that while her condition was mostly mysterious to them, they were certain another attack while she was in this weakened state would kill her.

If they fed on her again, a stardust necklace wasn't going to do much to help this time. She was most certainly going to die.

If they killed her, they would take her powers away in the process, and that would assure that she could never come back as a Muse. Though, that thought bothered her far less than the notion that perhaps everything would just end right then.

Not to mention, taking her powers meant a lot of bad things for the state of the world.

Her heart pounded, she forced slow, deep breaths again. The thought terrified her. Could she really march over there and basically offer up her life? Could she really decide that Jamie's life was worth more than everything the Guardians and Muses had been fighting for by keeping her safe?

But it was the full moon, and the Shadow People would be at their weakest. There would be moonbeams somewhere nearby, surely, and Sandy's dream creatures—

But what if she couldn't rely on that? What if it was like the New Moon and she was utterly cornered and alone again?

Her heart sank, realizing that could be Jamie. If she didn't do something soon, he could be the one feeling that heavy weight of sadness pulling him down. That desperate, hopeless feeling of one's spirit completely falling apart and losing everything that makes life worth anything.

She couldn't let that happen.

This was bigger than her. Leaving the North Pole meant being the kind of person that stories were written about, not simply the person that wrote stories. Leaving meant protecting someone precious to her.

Staying meant protecting her powers and potentially the well-being of people world-wide. Staying meant not being able to live with herself. Staying meant a lifetime worth of "what if's."

"It's better me, than him," Rowan said, pulling herself to her feet. She pulled on her coat, fastening the buttons with trembling hands before grabbing for the snow globe.

Still not sure if her decision was the right one, Rowan cleared her throat and said, "Burgess, Pennsylvania," before lightly tossing it ahead.

Blinking back tears as the swirling portal appeared, Rowan braced herself and stepped forward, wishing more than anything that she wasn't still terrified to die.

As usual, Rowan stumbled her way out of the portal, this time slipping on ice and immediately falling to the ground. She groaned, carefully pulling herself upright again and shivering slightly.

Glancing around, Rowan tried to ignore the pounding of her heart and her heavy breathing. She had, indeed, made it to Burgess. The streetlights were all out, but flashes of lights could be seen in the distance, with the low hum of a battle in progress being heard as well.

The full moon provided enough light to see exactly where she had to go.

There was no turning back now. She only had the one snow globe and it was spent.

Swallowing, Rowan rushed down the nearby street toward the residential area, trying not to slip as she went. She could see Sandy's dream barriers around the houses as she came closer and closer.

Her legs cried out in pain as she went, but her complete and utter terror cried out even louder. What if she was too late? What if the damage had already been done?

She began running across snow-covered lawns that had better traction than the sidewalk, ducking below low branches on decorative trees and squeezing between shrubs. She had run through these neighborhoods plenty of times during summer nights when visiting.

Back then they were running from sprinklers and angry neighbors whose houses she had toilet papered with some of the local kids.

What Rowan wouldn't give for that to be the reason she was running now.

A dog barked as she ran past their gate. Some couple stirred only briefly when she ducked passed their living room window.

She approached the house she knew Cupcake lived in and clumsily climbed the fence, hoping that no one in the house would hear. Cupcake's father was tall and intimidating, and while he had liked her fine when they had met over the summer, Rowan had exactly no time to explain to him why a missing person had hopped his fence.

Sprinting across their yard, she hoisted herself atop their shed before jumping down into the backyard of the house behind them. She landed haphazardly in the snow and for only a moment considered just lying there.

She was so close.

Ignoring the painful protests of her knees, Rowan returned to her feet and rushed forward, over another gate and down the next street.

A clumsy hop over a picket fence, another barking dog. She nearly tripped over what she thought might be a garden gnome.

And then she saw it. That red-paneled house with the uneven wooden fence, surrounded by dream sand, a boogey man, and some Shadow People lying in wait.

The front door opened and Jamie stepped outside, his blanket wrapped tightly around him and his breath fogging before him. His eyes were wide with nerves as he walked across the porch, closer and closer to the barrier.

"STOP!" Rowan screamed, trembling in fear. She was at least two houses away. "Jamie! Stop, stay in the barrier, stop!"

Everyone turned to face her. Jamie, Pitch, and all those eerie, feature-less faces of the Shadow People. Jamie paused in his steps, inches away from the barrier.

"Another trick, Thalia?" Pitch called, moving to pursue her himself as nightmare sand twisted around his hand. "This doesn't concern you!"

"I'm not Thalia," Rowan said, pulling the charm of her necklace out of her collar and holding it up as proof of her identity. It caught the moonlight and glistened, noticeable even from the distance she was at.

"Rowan, no!" Jamie called.

"You don't want him, it's my soul you want," Rowan called, taking a few steps back as the Shadow People carefully began heading her way.

"You're here for the boy!" Pitch hissed, pointing to Jamie.

"No, you're here for me! So come and get me!" Rowan called, spreading her arms as though daring them.

"Stay out of this! You're sentencing yourself to death, Sawyer!" Pitch said.

"Yeah? Well, to die will be an awfully big adventure," Rowan said, turning her heel to run as each Shadow Person at Pitch's side abandoned him and began rushing her way.


	60. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! This chapter got delayed a couple of times, mostly because of Christmas, New Years (both of which I hope you enjoyed, dear readers), and my birthday! I was actually hoping to have this posted yesterday for my birthday but it seems I'm a few hours shy. Oh, well. Please be sure to leave me a review!
> 
> This is also the... gasp! SIXTIETH chapter of this story. What the hell? That's a little crazy. A little. A lot. Thanks so much for sticking with me this long. This chapter includes some stuff that I have been planning ever since before I wrote chapter one. It was kind of weird to finally write it.

_"You're all a bunch of women that Apollo found useful. Women that he manipulates, controls, and keeps orderly as part of his power play, his mission to play god."_

* * *

**Chapter Sixty: Time**

* * *

"Clio, there's too many!" Calliope said, flying close to the redhead, who was still firing at their adversaries enthusiastically. Flash of light after flash of light burst forward from her weapons, one in each hand.

A few more squeezes of the trigger and they began clicking hopelessly. The only thing left in those guns were spent, sparkling, stardust shells, probably still warm.

Clio swore. "That was the last of my ammo!" she said, holstering each gun again. She turned sharply to retreat higher with Calliope and take a better look at the scene overall.

They had barely made a dent. They had been sure that they could handle all of the Shadow People at once; it was their best shot at eliminating them as a threat. But from this high in the air, it was painfully obvious just how much they had once again underestimated those dark creatures, specifically their numbers.

Cupid was already getting more and more cautious with the arrows he sent out, as it was getting to be much too risky to retrieve them again. Jack was working over-time, trying to give back up to those that were fighting on the ground, but there wasn't enough of him to go around.

Euterpe and the fallen yeti needed medical attention soon. Some of the others were already looking a bit sluggish.

"We need to do something or we're not going to win this," Calliope said..

"Tell everyone to take cover," Clio said, fumbling through the pouch she had kept her extra ammunition in and pulling out a small, sturdy box. Opening it, she removed a strange, golden, sparkling device from inside.

"The bomb? Are you sure?" Calliope said cautiously.

"I don't know what other option we have, Calli, we're getting overwhelmed out here," Clio said, her expression dark. "Tell everyone to take cover. Bunny's faster, so I'll have him set it, but once it's set we have about thirty seconds before it goes off."

"Give me two minutes, we have a yeti and Euterpe to get off the field," Calliope said, turning away to fly low immediately. Clio carefully cradled the device in her hands before flying low as well, hoping to get to Bunny.

* * *

To say that Pitch appeared furious after his so-called allies that were meant to devour this child's soul for him rushed off to consume the Mortal Muse's soul instead was an understatement.

He had worked out this betrayal of the Guardians and Muses so well. Everything was going to come together  _so perfectly_ so that he would have the opportunity to strike against them sooner rather than later.

And that opportunity just went rushing down an icy street.

This felt like déjà vu.

There had to be some way to save this, surely, and Pitch seemed to be thinking as much as he turned toward Jamie Bennett, still outside his home and still wrapped so tightly in his blanket.

Pitch had already betrayed the alliance. All agreements were off. Sliding his hand within the barrier, Pitch smiled as golden dream sand turned black and twisted crookedly to his side. The sand took the form of new nightmares, and for a moment he basked in the joy of being able to create more minions for the first time in ages.

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," Pitch said.

"I couldn't agree more," said Jamie.

Pitch's smug face fell. When the boy spoke it was with an eerie sort of confidence, though he was now entirely unprotected.

More important still, though, when the boy spoke, his voice was hoarse.

Jamie pulled off the blanket, balling it up and tossing it onto the porch, revealing an outfit consisting of a sweater, scarf, jacket, and jeans that were all much too big for him.

He pulled out a weeping tragedy mask, set it to his face, and a moment later, Melpomene stood tall before Pitch.

"You took the boy's place," Pitch said, shaking his head, teeth clenched.

"I took the boy's place," Melpomene said with a nod. "I've already dealt with the Shadow People before, I knew I could handle them feeding on me again if I had to."

"We had an agreement!" Pitch said, swiftly moving his arms and watching in satisfaction as nightmare sand moved with his gestures, pinning Melpomene against the ground by her wrists. "You could have eliminated the Muses, don't you see? Why would you suddenly care about one child?"

"You don't get it, Pitch!" Melpomene said, struggling to remove her wrists from the nightmare sand restraints, one hand still clutching the ribbon of her mask. "The Muses are my  _sisters."_

"No, they aren't. You're all a bunch of women that Apollo found useful. Women that he manipulates, controls, and keeps orderly as part of his power play, his mission to play god. You only share blood with Thalia. They are not your family," Pitch taunted.

"You should know better than anyone that blood doesn't dictate family bonds. Before the ball, how long had it been since you last spoke to your daughter?" Melpomene sneered. She dodged to the left as he sent another blast of sand her way, having clearly hit a nerve with him. Her sudden movement managed to free her wrists, and she scrambled to her feet.

"You've been double-crossing me this whole time!" Pitch accused, sending another blast her way. A quick move of her mask and she re-appeared a few feet behind him, completely missing the blast.

"No, it was only when you brought the boy into it, when you brought destroying my sisters into it! You don't get it, Pitch! You assumed that I would happily trade their lives for my own gain, but calling each other 'sister'isn't just for show," Melpomene said, her skeletal, weeping tragedy mask still tied to her face.

"Do you think any of them would do the same for you? Do you think any of them would sacrifice themselves, betray a powerful ally for your sake? None of them  _like_  you, forget loving you," Pitch said, still taunting as he gestured for his nightmares to surround her.

"That's what's so tragic about you, Pitch. You can't comprehend making any kind of sacrifice for anyone but yourself, so you could never imagine someone loving you enough to do the same. What's worse is you weren't always like this. We're both doomed to eternities of sadness but at least I still have my sisters," Melpomene said. "Because no one can tear you down or build you up like a sister. That's where this went wrong, Pitch. The Muses are always loyal to their own, first and foremost."

She was now completely surrounded by black, glittering nightmares, waiting for their signal to attack. Her eyes were locked with Pitch's, her expression hidden behind her mask.

Funny how quickly an ally could become a foe.

* * *

"Take cover, we're going with plan B!" Calliope called as she passed both Cupid and Jack. The two exchanged grim expressions before each sending out one final blast from their respective weapons.

"We need to help get Euterpe and the yeti out," Jack called to Cupid, who nodded in acknowledgement. It practically went without saying; those on the ground needed all the help they could get.

Jack had little doubt in his mind that under normal circumstances Terpsichore could completely handle carrying Euterpe to safety. Every part of her was toned, strong, and Jack was pretty sure she could destroy him in a fight if she really wanted to.

But the fight had taken its toll and she, along with everyone else that had been fighting on the ground, was moving noticeably slower. They were growing weak.

"You get my aunt, make sure Aunt T gets out too. You're faster if you need to make a double trip. I'm going to give North a hand with the Yeti," Cupid said. Jack nodded and no more than a second later, they were each off to their respective missions.

Jack landed cautiously within Sandy's dream barrier surrounding Euterpe, wincing at the view from inside. Being on the ground made the whole ordeal look so much more overwhelming. At least in the air, one might be able to find the end of the mass of shadows if one looked carefully.

There was no end in sight here.

Euterpe was leaning over, coughing up something thick, black, and inky into the snow. Her arms, barely holding her upright, were trembling. Her breathing was shallow.

She swore, her voice hoarse and her face wet with tears.

"It's almost over, Euterpe," Jack said, coming closer and setting a hand to her shoulder.

"They sacrificed like twenty of their own to try and get my glove off," she said, holding up a gloveless hand, red from cold. "And that's all they needed, was to have that skin exposed."

"It's almost over, come here, we have to take cover," Jack said. Euterpe put an unsteady hand to his shoulder and he carefully pulled her into his arms, adjusting his grip on his staff as he went.

He glanced toward Terpsichore, still fighting but quickly becoming overwhelmed as Bunny left with Clio to get things prepared. He couldn't carry both of them; he would have to make two trips.

Leaving the barrier, Jack flew quickly toward the nearest buildings. Sandy had already put up another barrier around them, and when Jack went around the back, he landed safely within said barrier.

Thalia was already there, cradling her wrist and back to her usual appearance. "Have you seen Mel?" she asked as he carefully set Euterpe down.

"I've only seen someone disguised as Rowan popping in and out of the field; I don't now who was who each time," Jack said.

"It's just been me for the past like ten minutes," Thalia groaned.

"What?" Jack said, eyes wide. Any of them disappearing wasn't good, but there was an extra hint of suspicion that came with Melpomene disappearing.

"Have you seen Pitch?" Thalia asked. "I'm afraid she might have gone off somewhere with him, and if neither of them are here she won't know about—!"

"Get Cori," Euterpe said hoarsely. Jack nodded.

"I have to go. I haven't seen Pitch but there's a whole other group with North, maybe they're over there," Jack said quickly before kicking off the ground again and heading back for the field.

They really didn't have time to be worrying about what those two might be up to right now. And if they had gotten further away? They were probably actually a lot safer than the rest of them right now.

When Jack didn't see Terpsichore in the sea of shadows before him, his stomach sank, wondering if they were feeding on her. There wasn't enough time to try and find a Terpsichore-shaped shadow in this mass.

There was only enough time to retreat, and retreat  _now._

But then he saw her, having stumbled into the small barrier that he and Euterpe had left, hunching over and catching her breath.

Jack dove, landing beside her a bit clumsily due to his speed. "Come on!"

Terpsichore didn't need to be told twice. Hastily, she stepped behind him and threw her arms around his shoulders, keeping a tight grip.

When Jack was airborne again, he cast a quick glance toward the part of the field the fallen yeti had been at. He was no longer there, with North, some other yetis, and Cupid all working to move him toward some other buildings. Urania flew nearby, directing moonbeams around to keep this transport safe.

Good, at least that seemed to be going as smoothly as one could hope.

When Jack and Terpsichore touched down where he had left Euterpe and Thalia, he found that Tooth had taken cover here as well.

"Is everyone cleared out?" Tooth asked.

Terpsichore let go of Jack and gave him a mumbled thanks before going to sit on the ground by Euterpe, properly checking on her now that they were off the battlefield.

"Almost, they're still moving the yeti, and Clio and Bunny have to set the bomb but I think that's it," Jack said.

"Still no Mel?" Thalia said, her tone worried.

"Maybe she's gone off somewhere else to take cover," Tooth said, trying to reassure her.

"I'm just worried because  _Pitch_  isn't around either," Thalia said.

"Do you know where Calliope is?" Terpsichore asked the others.

"She and Sandy are doing one more sweep and then they're taking cover," Tooth said.

Clio landed clumsily, her mechanical wings still out as she rushed over to meet them, shaking and breathing heavily.

"Bunny was setting it when I left, we have less than thirty seconds," she said, gesturing toward the ground. "Get down and cover your head."

* * *

Rowan had no idea where she was going, simply hoping for the best as adrenaline carried her forward and her heart threatened to burst forth through her chest.

She felt uneasy, as though she were being watched, and a few quick glances back were enough to show that the Shadow People were still in pursuit. The full moon had slowed them down. Slightly.

It made little difference with her ill body slowing  _her_  down as well.

No matter how many times she rushed away from the Shadow People in the dead of night, it would never get any easier, any less stressful.

One would think she would have come up with a strategy of some kind to run away in a more efficient manner, but unfortunately that was not the case.

One would think that the third or so time her life was threatened by the same entities, it would become less terrifying, but unfortunately that was also not the case.

The streetlights were all already out but the full moon was bright and she could clearly see the ground in front of her as she ducked down the nearby, snow-covered path in the hopes that it wouldn't be as slippery as the ice coated street.

She just needed to keep running. Her legs were sore, her weakened state was catching up with her, and her lungs burned, but she had to keep running. She had to keep the Shadow People busy and far, far away from Jamie.

There was nothing saying they wouldn't go back to him after getting to her, so she had to keep running.

And run Rowan did, until she found her feet slipping out from under her. Rowan was soon spiraling forward and sliding an impressive distance across a sheet of ice thanks to the momentum she had built up. She groaned upon impact, her palms scraped across the surface.

She carefully propped herself up, taking note of drops of blood hitting the ice as she did. Lightly touching her nose, it became clear that the contact with the ice had left it bleeding, though she didn't think it was broken, at least.

Chancing a glance back, Rowan was puzzled to find that the Shadow People had stopped short, standing tall in a line as though there were something keeping them back. Rowan cocked a brow and tried to stand up, immediately slipping before she managed to do so.

Her knees ached from impact.  _Everything_  ached and she coughed. She was still ill; this was becoming so hard to ignore.

Bracing herself, Rowan tried again, planting her feet steadily before carefully standing upright.

A quick glance around once she stood up told her exactly where she was. She hadn't been paying much attention, simply trying to get away from her aunt's house as quickly as possible. It was clear now that she had slid across the thick sheet of ice covering the lake that she must have walked past a million or so times before.

She eyed the Shadow People again, suspicious, as they lined the edges of the lake. She stood safely in the center, out of their reach.

But why weren't they pursuing? Rowan held her breath.

One stepped forward, atop the ice, and with a bright burst of blue light, disappeared. The others seemed to take a step back.

Rowan's eyes widened. Another Shadow Person inched forward, cautiously, and met the same fate.

Rowan glanced up at the sky, eyes fixed on the full moon, its light reflecting eerily in the blood dripping down her face.

Lunar magic: that had to be it. This town, specifically  _this lake,_  was full of it. Jack had become Jack Frost here; he had taken his oath to become a Guardian here.

They couldn't touch her as long as she was standing at the epicenter of all this magic, on this night, the full moon.

Rowan barely had a chance to sigh in relief when a blinding light in the distance suddenly flashed, leaving her to raise her arms to shield her eyes.

The earth seemed to tremble as she kept her eyes shut, the light so bright she could tell it was still shining. When the light died down, the earth was still shaking, and she finally heard the blast of whatever had gone off.

Rowan didn't have time to figure out that it had been the stardust bomb that had gone off.

Rowan didn't have time to see that the flash had eliminated every single Shadow Person that had been pursuing her.

She didn't have a chance to see the way the pavement split, the way numerous crevices formed through the earth, starting at the source of the light.

She didn't have a chance to see the way that, once these crevices hit the lake, they spiderwebbed across the thick ice like shattered glass.

When she opened her eyes, all she saw was a swift blur as she suddenly fell, the ice that had been so stable a moment ago no longer enough to hold her weight.

A shock of cold.

Rowan couldn't help but gasp at the sudden sensation, swallowing water as she went.

She reached toward the surface and felt nothing but more cold water.

Her movements were strained, sluggish.

Everything above her was a dark blur. She couldn't tell where she had entered the water.

It had all happened so fast that for a moment she hadn't quite realized that she  _had_  entered the water.

Another gasp, her heart raced.

It was so cold.

She had never been this cold before.

Everything was dark, and moving seemed more and more impossible.

She tried to kick but her limbs were weak.

She realized all at once that this was her worst nightmare come true.

Another gasp.

She knew she couldn't get air here, but her gasping wouldn't stop. She was in a complete state of panic, and no one was here to help her breathe through it.

Her chest cried out in pain. Her heart had never beaten so fast.

It felt as though the water were pushing her down now.

Trying to move didn't seem to be helping as she continued to sink, as her lungs continued to burn.

Her weak kicking slowed to a stop.

She no longer reached for the surface.

There didn't seem to be a point anymore.

This was it.

When Rowan realized she had reached this point, this point that she had been so terrified of, a certain sense of relief consumed her.

She was already here; it couldn't get worse.

All that time she had spent in fear seemed foolish now.

There wasn't anything  _left_  to be afraid of now.

This was  _it._

After everything else, there was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do.

She truly had no more control.

And in a way, that was freeing. Finally accepting that she couldn't control this was comforting.

There was to be no more fighting over how she was going to live her life.

There would be no more lies or cover-ups.

There would be no more fears about the future.

There would be no more worrying about any of the other things she couldn't control.

How long had she been under now? It felt like an eternity and no time at all. Time didn't make sense, but it didn't matter.

All at once she thought of Jamie, Sophie, her aunt, her parents, her grandparents, the friends she had through school, and the supernatural beings she head met recently. Memories of first kisses, of flying with Jack, of dumb things she had done in high school. Characters from her stories, plots she had finished and stories she had never started.

Sitting by the window as snow fell steadily, her notebook in her lap and a warm drink nearby, as content as anyone could ever hope to be.

Telling stories to Jamie, to Jack, to a whole group of mythical beings.

Reading Peter Pan for the tenth time.

Falling in love.

Blue eyes.

It all flashed through her mind in an instant, but somehow sparing enough time to fully appreciate everything.

Rowan Sawyer was no longer afraid. She closed her eyes and felt at peace, giving in to the water's freezing embrace.

This was it.

It was over.

* * *

Melpomene had thrown herself to the ground the moment she saw the flash, closing her eyes and covering her ears. The earth shook as the sound of the explosion caught up with the light.

After everything that had been said at the meeting, Melpomene honestly hadn't expected the bomb to be used. There was too much of a moral dilemma, and if anyone knew how irritating those were to deal with, it was Melpomene.

With ringing ears, the Muse opened her eyes. She was alone, Pitch and his nightmares nowhere in sight.

She glanced around the area for any sign of them, noticing that snow had been shaken off all the nearby trees and rooftops. Car alarms were going off everywhere as the world settled into a strange stillness after the blast.

Light didn't affect Pitch the way it affected the Shadow People. That blast hadn't destroyed him. So where had he gone off to?

It wasn't like him to run off rather than finishing what they had started. He was furious with her, wasn't he? She had played a pretty major role in ruining his plan.

So why wasn't he still trying to finish her off with cruel words and dark creatures?

Melpomene shook her head, deciding that was a problem for another time and started off down the street, avoiding the cracks in the road as she went.

"Rowan! Rowan, where did you go?" Melpomene called, a sick feeling in her stomach. The snow had been disturbed too much to follow her prints. "Rowan!"

* * *

It had become clear rather quickly that using the nearby buildings as shields was not the best idea.

Jack had lost his balance from the tremors and could feel where ice and pavement had dug into his chin, exposed fingers, and feet. Windows in all the nearby buildings had shattered, showering them in shards.

Though his ears were still ringing, Jack could somewhat hear someone swearing loudly from one of the other buildings.

Cautiously, hand on his staff, Jack levitated above the ice and broken glass, shaking a bit in an attempt to get the glass that had landed on him off.

"Is everyone okay?" came Clio's voice. Her wings were moving haphazardly, making mechanical sounds of distress. She frantically pushed buttons on her wristband before they clumsily folded themselves, pieces of broken glass and all, back into the compartment on her back.

"Not much worse than before," Euterpe mumbled, still trembling as she gingerly pulled a large shard of glass from her jacket sleeve. Terpsichore was carefully pulling herself to her feet.

"I'm okay. Just some scratches," Terpsichore said.

"Same," Tooth said, brushing debris from her feathers before offering Thalia a hand to stand up.

"Is it over now?" Thalia asked.

"It should be," Clio breathed, the cursing in the distance still audible. "That sounds like Cupid."

"We'd better meet up with the others," Jack said, helping to pull Euterpe to her feet. Using Terpsichore as a crutch, Euterpe hobbled along with the others as they made their way to the other building.

They caught a glimpse of the field as they went. The crater that the bomb had left was smaller than expected, considering the various crevices that stretched out from it.

Alarms could be heard throughout the town. Car alarms, security alarms. Jack wasn't so sure how long everyone would continue to stay indoors with all this commotion.

All of this mattered little, however, and that was because there was not a single Shadow Person to be seen. What was once a sea of black shadows was now entirely cleared.

Yes, there was some property damage, and truly Jack hated to see such cracks running through the ground of Burgess, but the Shadow People were gone.

"It's over," Tooth sighed, relieved. Jack nodded.

A huge weight seemed to be lifted. They had made it to the other side of this mess.

He couldn't wait to go back to the pole and let Rowan know. She would be thrilled.

Reaching the rest of the group, it immediately became apparent that Cupid  _had_  been the one cursing. A good portion of the other building had actually collapsed, and a large piece of debris lay nearby, with one of Cupid's wings pinned beneath it.

They arrived just in time to see North and a yeti free Cupid's wing from beneath the mass of brick and concrete. His wing bent at an awkward angle, and he didn't seem to be able to move it much.

"Cupid, Cupid, calm down," Calliope said, no longer in her bird form.

"It's broken," Cupid said, swearing again.

"We need something to use for splints," Clio said, approaching the broken wing and handling it carefully.

"The arrows should work, they're pretty sturdy," Urania said, taking a few from Cupid's quiver.

"Is everyone else okay?" Jack asked Bunny, who was shaking dust and glass from his coat.

"Looks like it. Sandy's safe, the Yetis are all accounted for, North got scraped up a bit but he's all right, and it seems like Urania and Calliope are fine," Bunny replied, tearing off some of his stardust armor and handing the straps to Urania.

"Okay, Eros, Sweetheart, get ready. One, two, three!" Clio said before swiftly snapping the broken part of Cupid's wing back into place. The boy swore again, groaning as Urania used the straps and arrows to create a makeshift splint for his wing.

"It'll do until we get you to some real medical supplies," Urania said.

"Looks like I'm gonna get some time off from work," Cupid winced, clearly in a great deal of pain.

"Mel's not with you guys?" Thalia asked Calliope, looking worried.

"I thought she was with you," Calliope said, shaking her head.

"Pitch isn't with you either?" Bunny said.

"Nope," Jack said. It was Bunny's turn to swear.

"We've got to track those two down," Bunny said.

"Go start looking, I am bringing sleigh around for wounded," North said, heading off in the direction of where he had left his sleigh. Urania and Clio continued to mend Cupid's wing. Tooth seemed to be trying to distract him by talking to him about flossing.

"I have a really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, like one of us is in trouble and needs the rest of us," Thalia said.

"I do too, I thought it was just because we were all here in the first place," Terpsichore said.

"She's  _going_  to be in trouble if she's off helping Pitch with some kind of scheme. I knew we shouldn't have trusted them," Bunny said, shooting Jack an irritated glance.

"Let's just find them," Jack said, unwilling to argue now. He just wanted to get everything sorted out so that he could head back to the pole and give Rowan some  _good_  news for a change.

"This way," Calliope said, quickly taking on her bird form and flying off toward the residential area. Sandy followed close behind.

"How do you know?" Jack called.

"I can feel it. We're sisters," Calliope responded. Jack and Bunny exchanged puzzled glances before shrugging and heading after the Muse anyway.


	61. Empty Room

_Her voice sounded a million miles away._

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-One: Empty Room**

* * *

When they found Melpomene, she practically ran straight into Thalia. The blonde had just appeared from thin air, comedy mask on her face and her arm in a makeshift sling.

"Don't do that!" Melpomene hissed to the other Muse as she stopped short to avoid a collision.

"Where were you?" Calliope demanded, landing nearby as soon as she took on her human form again.

"Where's Pitch?" Bunny added, skidding to a halt.

"We really, really don't have time for this," Melpomene said, trying to move past the others, only for Calliope to grab her by the shoulders. She began reaching in her jacket for her mask, mumbling under her breath.

"Mel, stop!" Thalia said, setting her good hand to Melpomene's mask to keep her from putting it on. "What's going on?"

Melpomene groaned, then began speaking, quickly, "Pitch made a deal with the Shadow People, convinced them to feed on Jamie Bennett's spirit because that would make him stop believing and give Pitch an edge against the Guardians."

"I  _knew_  we shouldn't have let him in!" Bunny said, again glaring in Jack's direction.

_"Where is he?"_  Jack demanded, heart racing at the thought of Jamie being prey to those creatures.

_Any_  child being fed on by the Shadow People was bad, but Jamie? That was personal.

"I don't know where Pitch is now but Jamie's fine. He's in his bed; he's asleep. Pitch wanted  _me_  to lure him out of the Sandman's barrier disguised as Rowan," Melpomene said, still clearly impatient, annoyed with having to explain this.

"But you didn't?" Thalia asked.

_"I_  left the barrier disguised as the boy. I had a plan. I can handle the Shadow People, they've attacked me before, no one was supposed to know any different," Melpomene said. "But Rowan overheard Pitch and I talking before we left, and I had to  _inspire_  her not to interfere, to  _trust_  me, but—"

"Inspiring another Muse is incredibly difficult," Thalia said.

"Especially if she fights back, which, apparently she did because she showed up at the last second to call the Shadow People off. They went chasing after her, instead," Melpomene said, teeth clenched.

_"What?_ Rowan's here? Where?" Jack said, swearing he felt the blood in his veins chill, more so than usual.

He had barely had a chance to feel any kind of relief that Jamie was all right (and confusion that  _Melpomene_  was apparently responsible for that) before falling into panic all over again.

No, no,  _no,_ this was not the plan! Rowan was supposed to stay at the North Pole; she was supposed to be completely safe while the rest of them took care of this.

Why did their plans  _always_  fall apart? Why was Rowan  _never_  where she was supposed to be when any of this happened?

Where was she now?

"I don't know; I've been looking for her! After the bomb went off, Pitch disappeared with some nightmares and I have no idea where he is. She's  _probably_  still okay as long as the Shadow People didn't catch up with her, but I haven't found her yet," Melpomene said.

"How did she even  _get_  here?" Bunny asked.

_"I don't know,"_  Melpomene hissed. "We're wasting time!"

"We'll deal with you keeping this to yourself  _later_ ," Calliope said, earning a roll of the eye from Melpomene before she turned back into a bird. "Which way did she go?"

"She went off in this direction but the snow got moved around with the blast so her footprints are gone," Melpomene said.

"Spread out, look for her, I'm going to fill the others in," Calliope said, flying back to where North should be loading their wounded into the sled. Sandy flew high into the air, Bunny bounded off in the opposite direction, and Jack kicked off the ground, leaving Melpomene and Thalia to go elsewhere on foot.

"Rowan!" Jack called, scanning the area. "Come on, Sawyer, where are you?"

How many times was he going to have to fly around blindly in the middle of the night, calling her name and hoping he would find her in one piece?

_The Shadow People are taken care of_ , he reminded himself. Tonight should be the last night he would have to worry about any of that.

Unless Pitch did something. Unless Melpomene wasn't being honest. Jack shook his head of the thoughts, darting off in the direction of the Bennett's house in case Rowan had doubled back that way.

He didn't have time to worry about Melpomene and Pitch right now; he just had to find Rowan.

"Rowan?" Jack called, softer than before as he landed on the Bennett's fence, trying not to disturb them. He couldn't explain this to Jamie right now. What was he supposed to say?

_So, your cousin tried to save you from having your soul devoured, and now we've misplaced her. Oops?_

The neighborhood was silent, no one responded to his calls. The car alarms that had been going off had been silenced. No one was wandering into the ice-covered streets in confusion.

Perhaps everyone had assumed it was an earthquake or something, decided to deal with it in the morning.

When he strained to hear anything, he could only hear the others calling for Rowan in the distance.

Flying toward the living room window, Jack peered inside, hoping he would find her lying on the couch with the dog like he had back in November. It felt like so long ago.

Nothing.

He approached Jamie's window, trying to be discreet as he glanced in, finding that Jamie was asleep in his bed, just as Melpomene said he would be. Abby slept soundly at the foot of the bed.

No sign of Rowan.

He checked the other windows, scanned the other rooms. Still no sign of her.

She couldn't have gone far in her state. Where would she go? Heading toward the woods, Jack tried to ignore the others as they called out her name. If they were still calling for her, that meant they hadn't found her yet, either.

What if something had happened before the bomb went off? What if she hadn't been able to get away?

His stomach was in knots.

_"Sawyer!"_  he called again, straining to hear a response. None came.

He landed near his cabin, using his shoulder to pry open the ice-coated door. He knew she currently didn't have the strength to force her way through the frozen door, but he stumbled inside anyway, looking around for her desperately.

Nothing. The cabin was still, cold, dark, and just as he had left it. There wasn't a soul.

He stepped outside, heading for the nearby trail, scanning the trees as he went.

He remembered walking with her here, talking to her and debating mentally over whether or not he should hold her hand. Calling each other ridiculous, coming so close to kissing her.

The anxiety now was so different.

He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as he called her name again and passed the sledding course he had constructed for the kids.

Maybe she had found her way back to the North Pole, Jack considered. She had made her way to Burgess somehow, maybe she returned the same way.

Maybe she wasn't responding to his, or anyone else's calls because she wasn't in Burgess at all anymore.

For a moment he tried to cling to this idea.

What happened next seemed to go in slow motion.

He stepped through the trees, having followed the trail to the lake. Just as he took a breath to call her name again, he stopped short, finding a group of the others gathered at the far edge of the lake. No one was calling Rowan's name.

The single, solid sheet of ice that usually covered the lake was shattered.

When had that happened? He was always so careful to freeze this lake in particular.

Urania was kneeling, the moonbeams hovering close by. Whispers were exchanged; he saw Tooth cover her mouth and shake her head.

Jack hovered low to the ground, approaching the group quietly.

"What are we going to tell Jack?" he heard Thalia say as he landed softly outside the small huddle.

"Tell me what?" he asked, heart pounding, terrified of the answer.

All eyes fell to him, all looks were apologetic, sad.

Somehow he already knew, and for no more than half a second he glanced back at the lake.

He looked back at the others, as though begging them to tell him that he was wrong.

Melpomene and Clio were standing closest to him, blocking his view. They each exchanged glances before stepping aside.

"I'm so sorry," Urania said. Her voice sounded a million miles away.

Rowan Sawyer lay in the snow, a thin layer of frost forming over her soaking wet form.

She was the kind of pale that went past sickness. There was no warmth beneath her skin.

Her lips had hints of blue.

There was no breath fogging before her.

"No," was the only thing Jack said, the only thing that made sense as he dropped to his knees and moved closer to her.

"The moonbeams led me over here," Urania was saying. Jack wasn't listening.

He reached for a strand of hair that was ready to freeze to her forehead and pushed it aside, fully expecting her to swat his hand away.

She didn't.

"We fished her out, we tried to resuscitate her, Jack," Urania said. A few yards away, the sleigh landed and everyone that wasn't currently surrounding Rowan was quickly coming to join.

He set his hand to her wrist, adjusting his fingers to feel for her pulse as he had done so many times before.

There was no warmth, no pulse to be felt.

"I'm so sorry," Urania said again.

"No," he said again, shaking his head.

This couldn't be happening.

After everything else, after everything they had done to keep her alive, to keep her safe.

After worrying that she would meet her demise thanks to dark creatures that they had finally gotten rid of.

Rowan Sawyer couldn't be lying in the snow before him, dead because of the cold.

"Jack," Bunny said, setting a paw to Jack's shoulder. "There was so much magic here, the Shadow People couldn't have had a chance to touch her before the bomb went off. She likely still had her soul when she went."

Was that supposed to make him feel better?

This still didn't feel real.

"The force of the blast broke the ice," Clio could be heard explaining to those that had just arrived.

"Even before I knew how I—… I froze that ice over every opportunity I had. It was always thick enough. No one's… no one's fallen through since I— No, no, no, no," Jack said, shaking his head, trembling.

This couldn't be happening.

This had to be a bad dream.

He would wake up soon enough with Rowan curled up in her blankets next to him and hair in her face. He would go to move it, and she's swat at his hand like always. Her breath would be warm and steady.

Everything would be okay.

But then he took her hand in his and found that she was even colder than he was.

Nothing was going to be okay.

He felt North's large hand touch his other shoulder, but Jack's eyes wouldn't leave the lifeless girl's face.

"I am so sorry, Jack," the older man said.

"What do we do? Does she just…  _stay_  missing forever now?" Terpsichore asked in hushed tones.

"What, and we get rid of the body?" Bunny said.

Body.

The word cut into Jack as he closed his eyes and squeezed her hand, mentally urging her to squeeze back.

She didn't.

_Body._

This wasn't a person anymore; this was a  _body_.

This couldn't be happening.

"I think that's sort of cruel, leaving her family to search for her forever and never find her," Tooth said.

"If it were my mother, she'd want a chance at closure," Cupid said.

"They will keep searching if they have no proof she has passed. They will never stop. They need to be allowed to mourn her, to get proper closure, like Cupid says," North said.

Her family.

Jack could be sick.

This was Jamie and Sophie's cousin. This was Lorelei's niece.

This was Dot and Bill's daughter.

This was Shirley's best friend.

This  _body_  was all of that, and thanks to some ice and water that was all over.

"So, what, we just leave her here for some kid to find?" Melpomene said. "That won't scar them for life  _at all_."

Ice and water. A body.

Ice and water took the life from this body.

When Jack opened his eyes he saw the frost branching from his hand and twisting over hers.

He pulled his hand away.

"Do you still have any money from the train?" Calliope asked Terpsichore.

"A bit, why?"

"Is it enough to get a burner phone at the gas station?"

"I think so."

"We'll call an anonymous tip into the police," Calliope said. "They'll come get her before anyone else has a chance to find her this way."

There were murmurs of agreement among the others.

"What do you think, Jack?" Urania asked, trying to catch his gaze. "You knew more about her than—"

_Knew_. Past tense. Everything with Rowan was going to be in past tense now.

Jack couldn't do this.

This couldn't be happening.

They couldn't be asking for his input on what to do with his girlfriend's  _dead_   _body._

Jack just shook his head, refusing to listen any more as he brought himself to his feet. Finally tearing his eyes away from Rowan, he clutched his staff and kicked off the ground.

"Jack, wait!" Calliope called as he sped away.

"Let him go," said North.

The wind whipping through his hair and clothes as he moved weightlessly through the air used to make him feel alive.

None of that mattered.

Jack just had to get far, far away from here.

But the further he went, the more ill he felt.

He couldn't run away from this.

No matter how far he went, Rowan Sawyer was still dead.

Breathing deep, Jack let out a yell before sending a blast of light and ice into the sky ahead of him.

Rowan was dead.

Dead thanks to ice and snow he had created.

This was happening.

* * *

_"What is believed to have been an earthquake caused extensive damage in the small town of Burgess, Pennsylvania last night. Due to road and building damage, many businesses, as well as all schools in the area will be closed until the roads are declared safe enough for travel,"_  said the news anchor on the television before Lorelei took the remote and changed the channel. She had already heard several reports about whatever had happened the previous night and didn't need to hear more about how no one was  _quite_  sure what actually happened.

Sophie was more than pleased at the program change, but Jamie had been peeking out the windows all day, begging to be let outside to investigate, only to be denied.

Lorelei was not about to let her son play on icy, unsafe streets.

He had settled himself at the coffee table, carefully working on a drawing with the colored pencils that Rowan had given him when she had visited the summer before.

Lorelei's phone buzzed in her pocket and when she glanced at the screen, she found her sister's picture as the caller ID.

Lorelei hoped that Dot had news about Rowan, but was sure her sister was just calling to check in after hearing about the earthquake.

"Hello?" she said, setting the phone to her ear.

_"She's gone,"_  Dot said, choking on a sob.

Lorelei's heart sank; her blood froze at the words. She turned away from her children, already noticing Jamie watching her curiously. Taking a few paces, Lorelei ducked into the bathroom, hoping for something resembling privacy.

"What? Dot, breathe," Lorelei said. Maybe she had heard wrong.

_"We got a call from the police, asking us to come in,"_  Dot said, still struggling to speak as she cried at the same time.  _"They said that they had been in contact with the police in Burgess—"_

"The police  _here?"_  Lorelei said, confused.

_"They got an anonymous tip last night that there was a body by that pond. So, they took her in and sent pictures over to our local police because it matched the description we gave them,"_  Dot explained.  _"So Bill and I come in and they say they're sorry that the images they're going to show us might be disturbing, but they think they found our daughter and need us to identify her. And they show us pictures of her face and her tattoos, and… it was her, Lor. It was her."_

"Oh my God," was all Lorelei could say, her mind spinning. She had never imagined that this investigation would end this way. She must have told Dot thousands of times over the past few weeks that it wouldn't end this way.

How could Rowan be  _dead?_

"I'm so sorry, Dottie," Lorelei said, feeling tears spring to her eyes. She had  _just_  seen the girl in November.

She was only twenty years old.

She had her whole life ahead of her. She had plans.

And here her sister was, having lost her only child, sobbing into the phone. Lorelei wished she could be there to give her a proper hug.

"Do they know what happened?" Lorelei asked.

_"They said she drowned, that she fell through the ice and she drowned. They said when they found her, someone had gotten her out of the water and tried to revive her, but it didn't work. They say her death was likely an accident and they don't have any leads right now to say why she was there or where she's been,"_  Dot said.  _"She was so thin, like she'd been sick."_

"Oh, Dot, I'm so sorry. Do you need me to try to come out there? Help you out with anything? The roads are a mess but if you need me I'll get out of here, we're sisters," Lorelei said.

_"No, no, we're coming out there once they open the roads again. We think we're going to do the service in Burgess. She was born there, she always liked it there,"_  said Dot.  _"I never thought I'd have to plan her funeral, Lor. How many funerals are we going to have to plan? Between you losing Avery, and then Dad, and now Rowan… oh my God… my baby, my baby's gone."_

Tears spilled from Lorelei's eyes.

"We're going to get through this, okay? It isn't going to be easy but I'm gonna help you get through this, just like you helped me when Avery died, okay? You and Bill are gonna stay with me and I'm sure Mom's gonna come here too. We'll take care of you guys," Lorelei said, trying not to fall into hysterics herself, wiping her eyes.

_"I just keep thinking, maybe we didn't look hard enough, maybe we didn't try hard enough…"_

"The search for her went  _nationwide_ , Dot, there wasn't anything else you could do. You did everything. This was out of your control," Lorelei said.

_"I just wanted her to come home. And now she never will."_

"I'm so sorry," Lorelei said again.

_"I need to make some more calls, I need to, I need to look into venues and I need to make sure everything at work is taken care of, and—"_

"No, you don't need to do all of that right now. You get off the phone and you take a break, that can wait," Lorelei said.

_"I don't know what to do. What do you do when you find out your child is dead?"_

"Go take a hot shower, get yourself some chocolate. Cry as much as you need to, I'll be here if you need to call me again."

_"Okay. Okay, thank you, Lor. I hate this."_

"I know you do. I love you, Dot."

_"I love you, too. I'll talk to you later."_

"Okay, Sis. Bye," Lorelei said, hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath, wiping her eyes again as she eyed the door.

This wasn't the first time she would have to explain death to her children.

* * *

Jack rolled over with a yawn, stretching his arm across to the other side of the bed. He opened his eyes as soon as his hand was met with nothing but more blankets.

Rowan's apartment was dark, cold, and silent. The other side of her bed was noticeably vacant, just as it had been when he had curled up there the night before.

What had happened hit him all over again.

He frowned, pulling himself upright and rubbing at his eyes, teeth clenched.

None of this was supposed to happen.

He wanted to be angry at Pitch for putting his second plan into motion, the plan that Rowan overheard and left the pole to try and stop.

He wanted to be angry at Melpomene for going along with everything, for trying to manipulate Rowan again, for not stopping Pitch's plan earlier.

He even wanted to be angry at Rowan, angry that she would leave the safety of the pole like that, would put her life at risk  _again_.

But despite all of that, most of the anger he was currently feeling was toward himself.

He was the one that had suggested Pitch join the alliance, wasn't he?

He was the one that had suggested Pitch make a deal with the Shadow People, wasn't he?

He was the one that had promised to keep Rowan safe, wasn't he?

If Jack had been around during the New Moon, Rowan wouldn't have been in her weakened state in the first place; Manny and Apollo would have never relocated her indefinitely to the North Pole.

She would have never been declared missing. She would have never experienced those frightening flashbacks, those painful physical side-effects.

Who knows? Maybe she wouldn't have ever found herself in Burgess last night in the first place.

Maybe she wouldn't have found herself standing atop the lake that he had frozen over. Maybe she wouldn't have fallen through and gone into shock thanks to the cold he had created.

Maybe if it weren't for all his contributions, Rowan Sawyer would still be alive.

"I'm sorry," he said with a sigh, unsure what good it did to say out loud. Rowan wasn't here to hear it.

Sliding off the bed, Jack headed for the coffee table where a gray notebook sat, discarded. He picked it up and read the cover where Rowan had written,  _"Untitled Pirate Story by Rowan Sawyer. Note To Self: Come up with a clever title."_

Turning over the notebook after verifying that it was the one she had mentioned, he walked back to her bed, kneeling down and reaching beneath it until he found a box. Pulling it out, he found several other notebooks, all beaten up and heavily-used, with scribbled labels on the covers such as  _"story notes," "story ideas," "story outlines,"_ and  _"projects."_

He gently set the notebook in his hands with the others before lifting the box with a groan and setting it on one of her kitchen chairs. Taking a permanent marker from the table, he uncapped it before trying his best to mimic Rowan's handwriting.

On the side of the box, he wrote,  _"For Jamie."_

Setting the marker aside, he slid the box back beneath her bed. Surely her parents would be by at some point to collect her things and would find the box.

The label would be more than enough to indicate where the notebooks belonged now.

"I wasn't supposed to have to make good on that favor, Sawyer!" Jack called out to no one at all, taking a seat on her bed again. All she had wanted for the past few days was to be back in this tiny apartment, with the Christmas lights and the cheap futon.

Jack buried his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes again. He had held back tears this whole time, as always, determined not to break his streak.

But as realization after realization hit, it got harder and harder.

Rowan was never going to write another story.

She was never going to touch those notebooks again.

She was never going to set foot in this apartment or her parents' home again.

She was undeniably absent, and Jack could feel the emptiness in his stomach. He was strangely hollow, as though she were a physical part of him that was now gone.

He knew this was going to happen at some point, but never imagined it would be so soon.

He knew this was going to happen but never imagined he would have played a role, that Rowan's body would be in a morgue somewhere with lips blue from cold.

Courting a mortal was a terrible idea.

Would she still be alive if they had never met?


	62. Let Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I'm sorry this one is late again. I kind of keep hoping I'm just gonna have a bad week and get over it, but... eh.
> 
> Anyway, here we are, next chapter! There's still a few more after this.

_"It's better to have Apollo on our side than not."_

_"Sometimes I wonder if that's really true."_

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Two: Let Down**

* * *

The northern lights seemed to be moving quickly tonight, much faster than Jack had ever seen them go. It made him dizzy to watch, and yet he couldn't seem to look away, feet planted in the snow and staff held loosely in his hand.

The lights twirled and moved in the other direction. It was like he was on a bad trip. What was going on?

When had he even gotten here?

His gaze fell from the lights to the snow-covered hills surrounding him, reflecting the colors from above.

He knew this place; he had brought Rowan here for their first real date. The ball didn't count, that was more like a business obligation than anything, and he had lost track of her for a great deal of it.

No, the northern lights, the snowball fight, the butterflies in his stomach, the hesitant confessions… _that_  was their first date.

It was their last, too, wasn't it?

The realization settled in his stomach like a brick.

He swore. "I'm sorry…"

"Did you say something, Jack?"

Jack turned, heart racing as soon as he saw her, standing there in the snow with a smile. The lights danced in her warm brown eyes, so full of life. Each breath she took clouded before her.

"Rowan," he said, rushing forward and pulling her into his arms desperately. He could feel her heart beating against her chest, could smell that sweet vanilla scent on her.

Her body was warm, her touch soft.

"I thought you were gone, I thought I lost you forever," he said, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye.

Their surroundings were quickly melting away into darkness as she set a hand to either side of his face. She was still smiling.

"Nothing's that easy," she said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, the lights above them finally slowing down as they began to float away from the ground, suspended in the air over nothingness.

"I love you," she said, her voice sounding distant as she said it, despite how close they were. Her lips met his and he kissed her back desperately. He never wanted to let her go.

But her lips began to slow, her grip on him loosened.

Shivers racked through her body.

When they pulled apart, he found her smile gone, her lips parted for a strained breath.

The color was draining from her face, frost branching from her mouth and coating her skin, consuming her.

"Rowan," Jack said, reaching out to touch her shoulder, which only set into motion more frost spreading across her being.

"It's so cold," she said, her voice so small. Her once-steady breathing was barely noticeable anymore.

Her eyes rolled back and she began to fall into the endless darkness beneath them.

"Rowan!" he called, reaching to grab her hand and missing. He tried to fly after her, but seemed to be stuck where he was, having little choice but to watch as her frozen form continued to fall into the abyss.

"Rowan!" he called again.

_"And let's not forget: 'Jack Frost. Freezing cold personified, prone to mischief and happiest when there are no obligations or responsibilities to fulfill. Some legends portray him as a benevolent being who wishes only to spread cheer, while others suggest a more vengeful spirit, responsible for hypothermia and other winter-related deaths.'"_

_"Hypothermia is a terrible way to go, I wanted to help but I won't pretend it wasn't easy for her to talk me out of it. "_

_"Sorry about the cold. It must be strange."_

_"I don't want to cause you any more trouble because of the cold."_

_"I wasn't thinking before. I honestly shouldn't have even kissed you, I just… all I can do is keep you cold."_

_"We fished her out, we tried to resuscitate her, Jack."_

_"The force of the blast broke the ice."_

Voices from the past few weeks kept echoing through his mind as she disappeared from sight, frozen to death and gone forever.

"Rowan," he said, opening his eyes.

He was in his cabin, his heart racing and snow pouring in from outside the open window, covering his form. He sat upright, clutching his head and forcing himself to breath steadily, as he had told Rowan to do so many times before.

It was all a dream, and not the first of this kind he'd had since the full moon.

It wasn't Sandy's doing, Jack knew Sandy wouldn't do such a thing to him. Tease him with Rowan's smiling form, only to take her away again.

Something told him it wasn't Pitch, either. He didn't have that same feeling of fear that came when Pitch meddled in such things.

No, what Jack felt was sick with grief and guilt. These dreams were his own mind's doing.

He swore under his breath again.

"I'm sorry, Sawyer… I'm sorry."

* * *

Calliope sat at Clio's workshop, carefully stirring her cup of tea as Melpomene sat across from her, Clio and Thalia seated on either side.

"So, you and Pitch pushed Jack Frost and Rowan together, because if he loved her, he would be willing to risk trusting Pitch and allowing him into the alliance to protect her," Calliope said.

"Yes," Melpomene said. "There wasn't a lot of pushing we had to do, he was developing feelings for her anyway."

"She just wanted Pitch in to  _help_  the rest of us—" Thalia started. Calliope held up a hand and the younger Muse immediately closed her mouth, fidgeting in her seat.

"You and Pitch orchestrated the entire vote," Calliope said.

"Yes," Melpomene said again.

"And got others to campaign on your behalf to vote on Pitch's side," said Calliope.

"Yes," said Melpomene.

"And Tsar Lunar and Apollo knew all of this," Calliope said.

"Most of it, at least," Melpomene nodded, taking a sip of her own tea.

Calliope shook her head with a sigh. "I don't know if I'm more upset with you for doing all of this or with them for not saying anything."

"Well, being mad at  _them_  would be a nice change of pace, on one hand," Thalia said, scratching at the cast on her wrist.

"Oh, but being mad at me is a centuries old  _tradition_ ," Melpomene sighed.

"You did what you did to protect us, and even Rowan would have been safe thanks to you if she had stayed at the pole," Calliope said, shaking her head. "I wish you would have  _said something."_

"Oh please, after what he did to the Sandman? You weren't going to hear it," Melpomene said. Clio and Thalia each shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Calliope's gaze. "You weren't going to hear that we had to let Pitch help for the sake of our safety, your hate ran too deep."

Calliope fiddled with her teaspoon for a moment. "You're right."

"What? Did Calliope just admit to being wrong?" Melpomene said, eyes wide.

"I said you were right, I never said I was  _wrong_  not to trust Pitch, look what happened. We're lucky no one else died," Calliope said. "But I am just… just so tired of being left in the dark by Tsar Lunar and Apollo."

"Well, we can't really do much about that," Clio said.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like we can just stop being ruled by Apollo," Thalia said.

The room fell silent; the others glanced her way, their respective teacups forgotten.

"What?" said the blonde.

"No, no, you're right… it's, um, it's been so long we can't just stop, right?" Calliope said.

"Well, Apollo sure as hell wouldn't make it easy," said Clio.

Silence again, Clio poured herself more tea.

Calliope shook her head. "It's better to have Apollo on our side than not."

Melpomene shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder if that's really true."

* * *

"Jack! Jack, if you're in there, open up!" came Bunny's voice from outside Jack's cabin. Jack glanced toward the door, not moving an inch.

He sat on that old, sad mattress on the floor, leaning back and staring at the opposite wall where he had hung the drawing Rowan had made him for Christmas and some of the Polaroids they had taken weeks ago.

The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to anyone. Guardian, Muse, moral… he wanted nothing to do with any of them.

He was good at being sad and alone. He didn't know how to be sad around other people.

He didn't know how to deal with apologetic looks, with choruses of "I'm so sorry."

"Jack!" Bunny said again, pounding on the door.

Maybe if he kept quiet, Bunny would eventually decide he wasn't there and go away.

A hole appeared in the floor before him, and soon enough, Bunny jumped through.

Or, maybe Bunny would just let himself in.

"Didn't you and North  _both_  lecture me about entering someone's home without permission a few months ago?" Jack said dryly.

"I understand that you're hurting right now, and I  _am_  sorry, Jack, but—" Bunny started.

"But you told me so, right?" Jack said, eyes still fixed on the opposite wall rather than Bunny. "You warned me this would happen,  _'Courting a mortal is a terrible idea,'_  getting attached will only end in heartbreak. Do you want me to tell you that you were right? You were right. There. You can go now."

Bunny sighed, and it seemed as though he were trying not to roll his eyes. He took a seat beside Jack, glancing toward the wall Jack was so fixated on.

"I take no satisfaction in being right about this," Bunny said sincerely. "I'm not here to rub it in. But, I'm not actually here to console you, either."

"Good, then you can leave. It's really hard to stare at old pictures in solitude when someone else is around," said Jack, finally glancing Bunny's way.

"The world keeps spinning, Jack, we've still got responsibilities and we've been  _trying_  to find you to tell you what happened when we got back to the pole," Bunny said, his tone a strange combination of annoyance and seriousness.

"What happened?" Jack asked.

Was it  _more_  bad news? Once they were through with the full moon, everything was supposed to be sorted out, their problems were supposed to be  _over,_  finally.

Jack was beginning to wonder why they made plans in the first place if they never worked. Maybe they should just go back to letting things happen and just reacting.

"When Pitch left Burgess, he and the nightmares went by the North Pole. Polyhymnia, Erato, Arachne, the Yetis, they all tried to stop him, but he was in and out too quickly," Bunny said. He paused and sighed, clearly irritated. "He took the plans for the bomb. All our blueprints, they were in North's workshop, and he's got all of them."

 _"What?"_  Jack said, heart sinking. "But North's got everything else like that under lock and key!"

"We were all so focused on the bomb itself that we didn't think about the blueprints or putting them away, it was  _stupid_ , so incredibly stupid," Bunny said, shaking his head.

"So he can make his own now," Jack said. The idea of Pitch wielding a weapon that could easily harm mortals and magical beings alike was terrifying.

"That's our  _best_  case scenario, him keeping the plans to himself," Bunny said.

"You think he'll give them to someone else?" Jack asked. Surely Pitch wouldn't be in a big rush to re-enter any sort of alliance after everything that had happened recently.

"Think about it, Jack, think of all the chaos that would happen if every magical being, malicious or otherwise, had access to this kind of weapon. And if they know that the Guardians were involved in its creation? We're looking to make a lot of new enemies, at the very least," said Bunny, pulling himself to his feet again.

Jack's head spun at the concept.

This was all already more political than he had expected when it came to voting within their own group.

Now there were weapons and potential enemies, and alliances were going to be more important than ever.

"What do we do?" Jack asked.

"There's not a lot we can do right now. Keep an eye out for anyone who might be building one. Make sure our alliances are solid. The Muses are still on our side, so at least that means we have Apollo. As much as I can't stand him, there aren't a lot of people outside his sister that would dare cross him," Bunny said.

"Will she try anything?" Jack asked.

"Artemis? I don't know, hopefully not. According to the Muses, she and Apollo have mostly been avoiding each other."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Honestly? Just lie low, do your job, try not to tick anyone off."

Jack sighed, frustrated. "I don't know if you understand how many people I tick off  _by_  doing my job."

"Considering I'm one of them, I have a pretty good idea," Bunny said. "Just don't do anything to  _purposely_  bother anyone,  _particularly_  Mother Nature."

"She'll leave me alone as long as I don't give the Sahara a blizzard or something," Jack said. "Is there anything else? I mean. Maybe if I had a project, something else to focus on…"

Bunny glanced at the pictures on the wall, then back to Jack. "I know it's hard, but avoiding it isn't going to help anything."

"I'm not avoiding it, I can't avoid it, everything reminds me of her somehow. I need something that  _isn't_  her and the fact that she's gone to focus on," Jack mumbled, focusing on the ground rather than the photographs or Bunny.

"Just focus on your usual work," Bunny suggested.

"Did you not notice the blizzard?" said Jack. Snow was still falling heavily in the area, in an almost melancholy fashion, if it were possible for snow to fall in such a way.

Bunny sighed. "Look, just… do what you have to do, but stay out of trouble, all right?"

"Whatever," Jack said.

"Buck up, she might not be gone forever," Bunny pointed out.

Jack's frown deepened. "I know, but… she didn't want to be a Muse. She didn't want immortality; she didn't want any of this. So, am I really supposed to try and make myself feel better by telling myself that she might come back and be completely unhappy?"

"It's a hard situation. You're allowed to want and hope to see her again, though, anyone in your position would. Maybe you should talk to North?"

"I don't really want to talk to anyone," Jack said.

Bunny nodded, opening up another tunnel. "I'll head out, then. Don't do anything stupid."

Jack just shrugged, promising nothing.

Bunny stopped short before hopping down his tunnel, eyes fixed on the shelves on the wall. "Are those  _my_  egg grenades?"

"Um… no?" Jack said awkwardly.

Bunny shook his head, taking the eggs in his paws. "Again, don't do anything  _stupid."_

And with that, Bunny disappeared through his tunnel.

Jack sighed, pushing his hair back.  _Define "stupid,"_  he thought.

He fixed his eyes on the photographs again, frown fixed on his face.

Was staring at a face that wasn't about to stare back at him stupid?

Was going back to sleep to dream about her, only to wake up and be hit all over again with the reality that she was gone, stupid?

What was the  _smart_  thing to do in this situation?

* * *

"Oh, good, Cupid, you're here!" Tooth said, spying the boy seated by a window in the pole, his wing now in a far more sophisticated splint.

"Oh, uh, hi Toothiana," Cupid said, glancing her way. "Yeah, yeah, I came by to help my mom move some stuff out but then I got here and apparently she wants to stick around for a while, so. Now I'm just here until I get another couple snow globes."

"How long until your wing heals?"

"I age slowly and I  _heal_  slowly, so it'll be a few months, at least," Cupid said, clearly bitter about this.

"I'm sorry… you know, I've been meaning to talk to you," Tooth said hesitantly, taking a seat beside him.

"Really?" Cupid said, cocking a brow.

"Yes. But, um, everything's been so hectic, what with the blueprints and what happened with Rowan," Tooth said. Cupid nodded.

"How's Jack doing?" he asked.

"I don't know, he's keeping to himself and I've been trying to give him space. I'll check on him soon, I think," said Tooth. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about how I behaved before the full moon, how I gave you the cold shoulder."

"Don't worry about it," Cupid said, shaking his head.

"You seemed to be pretty hurt by it at the time, and while I had my reasons and I  _do_  stand by those reasons… I feel like I might have been sort of hasty in my decision to shut you out," Tooth said.

"Really?"

"I just mean, I've known you for so long, it really wasn't fair of me not to trust you, you haven't given me any real reason not to, it was all speculation," she explained. "I really hope we can move on now that all is said and done. We're going to need each other more than ever, soon enough."

"Right, right, I'm, uh, I'm sorry about how I acted with all of that. Just, um, I wouldn't ever do anything to purposely hurt any of you… you know that, right?" Cupid said, eying her in an almost pleading way.

"Of course," Tooth nodded. "After everything else? Of course."

"Good, good," he said, dropping eye contact. "Just… just remember that."

"Is something wrong, Cupid?" Tooth asked, cocking a brow.

"I'm just, um, I'm still a little shaken up by everything that happened. It's been a while since someone I knew died and was really dead, you know? Before this it was the Sandman and he was back before we knew it and… and then everything with the blueprints, it's all unsettling," Cupid said hastily.

Tooth nodded. "I know. We were all foolish to think we could just get rid of the Shadow People and be done with our problems."

"We sure were," Cupid agreed, glancing out the window again, eyes fixed on the moon.

* * *

Jack had done everything possible to avoid the lake when he ventured outside before. And yet, here he found himself, standing at the edge and eying the small display that had been set up there.

There were numerous candles, all put out thanks to the wind and snow by now. Bouquets upon bouquets of flowers lie coated in ice, many of them roses. He wondered if it was public knowledge now that those were her favorite.

Stuffed animals, notes, pictures of her from the paper and her missing poster, prayers and trinkets depicting saints and angels.

It was hard to deny that this was the place where Rowan Sawyer had died.

 _Froze to death, more specifically_ , his mind was quick to remind him.

He turned away from the shrine and the wind picked up. A moment later, he was airborne.

Jack just had to get away from it, but there was nowhere to go that didn't remind him of her. Even Antarctica, which used to be a place he could go and escape from absolutely everything, was full of plans they had made and never got to do.

He hadn't been flying long before he landed on the roof of the Bennett's house, peering down at the driveway with a frown.

Back in November, she had pulled into that driveway with her beat-up jeep and he had seen her for the first time. He remembered being far more preoccupied with the fact that she had complained about the weather conditions on the drive over than with the girl herself.

He iced her windshield and went on his merry way, none the wiser that the girl with the burgundy-dyed hair and freckles was going to completely change his life.

None the wiser that he was going to completely change… and  _end_  hers.

He peered over the edge of the roof, down to the Jamie's window.

He both wanted to check on the boy and was completely terrified to do so.

Jack Frost, as previously stated, didn't know how to be sad around other people.

Add the fact that Jamie was also going to be sad, because his cousin had  _froze to death_ , maybe Jack should just stay the hell away.

But maybe staying away would be like running away, and maybe that would be even worse.

If Rowan were around, maybe he would ask her what to do.

But if Rowan were around, he wouldn't have this problem.

Jack lowered himself to the windowsill and peered inside. Jamie was sitting on his bed with a comic book in his lap. His eyes seemed vacant, uninterested.

Swallowing, Jack reached forward and gently tapped his knuckles against the window pane. When Jamie looked up, his frown deepened and he seemed to debate a moment before finally setting his comic aside and climbing off his bed.

He opened the window.

"Hey, Kiddo," Jack said, settling down on the sill. "How're you doing?"

"Rowan's dead," was Jamie's response.

Jack winced and nodded. "Yeah… yeah, she is. I'm sorry."

"I saw her that night!" he said. The young boy seemed conflicted between being angry and being ready to cry. "She came in here, and she told me I had to stay in bed a-and not leave until the sun came up, no matter what I heard. And then I-I heard Pitch, and I heard yelling, but I stayed in bed because she said everything was going to be okay, but it's not, she's dead!"

The tears were coming now. Jamie was just a little boy, trying to navigate his way through the death of someone he loved.

Losing someone didn't make any sense regardless of age.

Jack didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Jamie that the last time he saw Rowan, it had actually been Melpomene in disguise. It seemed too cruel.

"You promised that she was going to be okay, you promised you'd protect her," Jamie said, wiping at his eyes.

"Jamie, I—" Jack started, unable to come up with a proper ending for that sentence. He  _had_  promised those things, and he hadn't delivered. He hadn't just let Rowan down, but he'd let down the first person to believe in him.

"She's never going to finish her stories, she's never going to tell another one, she's never gonna visit again, we're never going to see her again," Jamie said, his face wet with tears.

"I'm sorry. None of this was supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to be there that night… I'm so sorry, you have no idea how sorry I am," Jack said, blinking back his own tears.

"The Guardians were supposed to help her, to protect her, where were you?  _Where were you?"_  Jamie demanded.

Eye contact faltered.

"We were getting rid of the Shadow People, she wasn't supposed to be there…" Jack mumbled.

"Then why was she?" Jamie asked. Jack didn't answer. "She was calling my name… she was trying to protect  _me_  from something, wasn't she?"

"Yeah," Jack said weakly.

"That's  _your_  job," Jamie said, walking to his desk and taking a tissue to blow his nose. "You're supposed to be a Guardian, none of you were there!"

"Jamie…" Jack said, his heart sinking with every word.

What could he say?

Nothing was going to make this better.

"Go away, just go away," Jamie said, not even sparing Jack a passing glance now.

"I never meant for any of this to happen, Jamie, please…" Jack said, approaching the boy carefully. He couldn't have Jamie hate him as much as he currently hated himself.

He just couldn't.

He went to set his hand to Jamie's shoulder, and with a look of horror, found that it passed right through.

"No…" he said.

Jamie couldn't have stopped believing in him just like that, could he?

Jack backed away, climbed out of the window.

Breaking promises and being responsible for the death of a loved one was probably enough to become disenchanted with anyone.


	63. More Than A Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Laaaaate update again. Sorry, guys. Still trying to find a job which is, of course, super fun and super encouraging. In the meantime I've been trying to do this couple thing over on tumblr, so I've got quite a few new drawings of Rowan and Jack over there if you want to check out the RotG tumblr link on my profile.

_It didn't make him feel peace, it made him feel uncomfortable._

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Three: More Than A Memory**

* * *

Jack was pacing, North was watching with concern, having stood from his chair the moment the younger Guardian had arrived.

Jack rarely seemed so frazzled. His emotions were usually hidden behind a veil of sarcasm, calm and, well,  _cool_ , if one could forgive the pun.

This wasn't the case currently, as the boy trembled as he walked, pulling at his hair and speaking hastily, his voice strained, tired, and so, so sad.

"…He knows I exist, he  _knows_ , but that doesn't seem to make any difference because my hand still went right through him. So, what, did he just… just shut me out because of what I did? Has this happened to any of you before? Is it permanent?" Jack was saying.

"You are right, he cannot convince himself in a matter of seconds that you are not real… but from what you have told me, I am afraid that Jamie may have lost  _faith_  in you, Jack," North said gently, setting a hand to the boy's shoulder in an attempt to shop him from wearing a hole in the floor from the pacing.

"What am I supposed to do? I didn't mean for any of this to happen, if I could do it all over again, I'd—I don't know, but none of this was supposed to happen," Jack asked, desperate.

"There is nothing you can do, Jack. It is not your fault that Rowan has passed. It was all a very unfortunate accident," North said. "Eventually, Jamie will see this."

"She froze to death. No one has died in that lake in three hundred years… if it weren't for me—"

"If it were not for you, she would not have made it as long as she did. You kept her alive, you kept her smiling when she needed it, you were her friend when she was put in a position that isolated her from the world," North said, careful to keep eye contact with the boy as he spoke. "You have to believe, Jack, that you did so much good for her. You did the best you could."

"The element I control  _killed_  her," Jack said, defeated.

"So many things had to come together before she died. We could point fingers and point fingers until we came right back where we started and it will not change anything.  _You did the best you could_. Rowan Sawyer's blood is not on your hands," North said, his voice growing stern.

Jack stepped away from North's grasp, taking a step back and pushing back his hair. "Then why does it feel like it is?"

"It is normal to consider all the ways things could have gone differently, wonder if you could have saved her if you just changed one thing. But please, Jack, know it is not your fault. I am sure Rowan would not blame you either," North said.

"How can you be sure?" Jack said.

"Because she was smart girl, and I know I did not know her as well as you did, but it was obvious how much you both cared for each other. She knew you would never hurt her."

Jack sighed, fiddling with his staff. "I still can't deal with everything about her being in past tense. She  _was_  a smart girl. She  _knew_  I wouldn't hurt her. She  _was_  alive."

North sighed, doing his best to  _gently_  pat Jack on the shoulder again.

"The pain does not go away," North said. "You will forever encounter reminders that she is gone. But eventually, the sting of it will fade. It will not destroy you every time you think about her."

"I don't even know  _how_  to really mourn her since there's a possibility she could come back. If she does, then it's almost like grieving was a waste and then  _she's_  going to be miserable. And if she doesn't, it's going to be like losing her all over again, and I have to wait a year to find out either way," Jack said, his eyes shining with tears he was actively fighting.

"There is no right way to mourn. You do it once and think you have it figured out, and the next time is completely different. You must only do what you can to accept that she has passed. Whatever Apollo decides, deal with it then," North said.

"I feel like the worst person because I want her back, I want her back more than anything, but I know she didn't want that. She didn't want to be immortal; she didn't want to be a Muse. How can I stand here, grieving over her, and wanting something so badly that would make her so unhappy?" Jack said, his voice straining.

"You are not a bad person.  _No one_  is going to think less of you for wanting the girl you love to come back," North said sympathetically. "No one would think less of you if you were to cry, either."

Jack scoffed. "I haven't cried in over a century, I'm not about to start up again now."

"What are you trying to prove?"

"That I'm better now, that—that being sad doesn't control me, that I'm  _stronger_  than that," Jack said, doing everything possible to avoid eye contact now.

"Feeling is not weakness, Jack. Sadness is not weakness. Bottling it up is no good," North said.

Jack eyed the other Guardian for a moment, seeming to consider what he said before slowly shaking his head. He took a deep breath and headed for the window that he had entered through.

"I, um… I have to go," Jack said.

"Come back any time," North said, frown fixed on his face as the boy flew off, his flight noticeably lethargic.

* * *

"This is a damn nice obituary," Teddy said, seated on the counter of the coffee shop. He had the newspaper in one hand and a scone in the other, doing absolutely nothing productive despite wearing the work smock that indicated he was supposed to be working.

Quinn, on the other hand, was cleaning a blender nearby and at least attempting to be useful to their place of employment.

"Are you really commenting on the quality of our friend's obituary?" Quinn asked. Nicolette was absentmindedly stirring a cup of coffee at a table nearby, joined with Adam and Shirley who looked exhausted.

"Well, it's better she has a damn nice obituary than a shitty obituary with a bunch of typos or something," Teddy said, defending his behavior with a mouthful of scone. "Have you seen this, though? Real nice pictures, they even have some of her art in here. I wonder if her parents paid for this or the paper covered the cost because Rowan's story is selling."

"I think the paper paid for it," Shirley said. "But I haven't talked to her mom recently, I don't really know what to say. 'Hey, Dot, so it really sucks that Rowan's dead, huh?' Shit, it still doesn't feel  _real."_

"It doesn't," Nicolette said, shaking her head. "I mean, I think we all knew that it was likely the longer she was missing, but… I don't know, I didn't expect her to actually turn up dead."

"What gets me is that they still have no idea what happened. Their best guess is that she was being held somewhere and escaped… only to then fall through some ice and drown," Adam commented.

"Ice that only broke because of some freak earthquake or something," Quinn added.

"And she was dragged out by someone who tried to revive her, failed, and just left her there?" Nicolette said.

"Yeah, it's all too weird. Mysterious earthquake, she disappears after a bunch of electrical weirdness at the school, turns up in a town hours away… the conspiracy theory corner of the internet is just about  _exploding_ ," Teddy said, brushing crumbs away from his person, having finished his scone.

"Oh yeah? What do  _they_  think happened? Still on the demon thing?" Nicolette asked.

"Some of them are, think the earthquake was a disturbance from the underworld that happened when they realized she had escaped her demon captors," Teddy said with a shrug. "I'm leaning more toward the alien theory, though."

"Aliens?" Adam said, cocking a brow.

"Yeah, a lot of people think that the night she disappeared she was abducted by aliens and that their technology was interfering with the lights and cameras and shit. Then the night she died was the night they dropped her back off and did more damage than they intended," Teddy explained.

"It's so stupid. She was a  _person_. A living, breathing person that had hopes and dreams and this is her legacy? A story for conspiracy theorists to swap back and forth as proof of whatever the hell?" Shirley said, shaking her head and clearly disgusted.

"Hey, now, Rowan and I used to talk about this sort of stuff all the time at shows. A whole group of us would go back and forth about ghosts and Big Foot and aliens and shit, and she was always right in there with her own theories," Teddy said.

"So, what, she'd be happy to be reduced to some kind of weird urban legend?" Shirley demanded.

"Not that necessarily, but I think she'd be into the fact that at least if she had to go, she gave people something to think about and believe in when she did," Teddy shrugged. "I know I would be, anyway."

"I don't know if this is promoting belief in the supernatural, or  _fear_  in the supernatural," Quinn said. Teddy shrugged again, folding up the newspaper.

"You guys going to the funeral?" Nicolette asked, seemingly trying to change the subject from what Rowan may or may not have wanted her legacy to be.

"We're gonna try, they said roads getting into Burgess should be open again by now and we were going to leave Saturday," Adam said.

"School's doing a candlelight vigil on Friday," Shirley sighed. "Get to go watch people that didn't even know her go on about how great she was… it's just so  _weird."_

"We're gonna try and head out Saturday, too," Quinn said. "The whole band, we're hoping the family might let us play something since she always went to our shows and everything."

"What would you play?" Adam asked.

"Maybe  _'Under the Milky Way,'_  that was her ringtone  _forever,"_  Shirley said, smiling slightly at the thought.

"We're considering that, maybe something by Garbage since they were her favorite and we know a few of their songs. It's just hard because I don't think the Garbage songs we know are actually funeral-appropriate," Nicolette said, wincing slightly.

"Yeah, it's weird, we know all these songs about death but somehow they don't feel appropriate for a funeral. Go figure," Teddy said.

* * *

It was late. Snow fell outside the window quickly and silently, and Dot had no tears left to cry. Lorelei set a mug of tea before her sister before taking a seat beside her at the table.

Dot and Bill had arrived a few hours earlier. Bill spoke little, opting to distract both himself and Jamie by playing with the boy's action figures. He was sleeping now.

Dot was never one to stay quiet, and she and Lorelei had spent a great deal of time since her arrival crying and exchanging memories. They were already on the second box of tissues, eyes puffy and red.

"The weather's been so dreary, it's like the snow's sad she's gone too," Dot commented, staring out the window for a moment.

"Rowan would love it," Lorelei said, smiling slightly. "She loved the snow."

"When she was little she would look out the window and say how pretty it was," Dot nodded. "Did I ever tell you, I knew we were having a girl?"

"I thought you two waited until the birth to find out what you were having," Lorelei said.

"We did, but the night before, I had this dream… I never told anyone because I figured it'd get back to mom and you know how she is, she'd break out star charts or something," Dot said, shaking her head slightly.

"She did that anyway, apparently Jamie was born under Saturn or… something," Lorelei said, giggling slightly. "What was the dream about?"

"Well, I was on this mountain, and there were all these beautiful plants around and all these animals, and it was a full moon," Dot said, pausing to blow on the tea in the hopes of cooling it. "Then this woman appeared. She had long hair and I remember she had silver eyes. She had a bow and some arrows with her, too. The way she walked was so… it was so strange because it was more like she was floating, like it was  _way_  too graceful.

"She came over to me and set a hand to my belly and said I was having a girl. She said that the girl I was going to have was going to grow and create beautiful things, and inspire everyone around her to do the same. She said my girl was going to do great things… and then I woke up, and I went into labor later that day."

Lorelei cocked a brow at Dot as the latter sipped her tea. "That is completely insane. Do you know who the woman was?"

"Not a clue. But I would think about that every time Rowan would draw a picture or someone would say she gave them a wonderful idea," Dot said.

"Maybe you're psychic," Lorelei mused.

Dot scoffed. "I don't think so, that's the only dream like that I've had. I think Rowan was just… special. And I know every mother thinks that about their children but, she always had so many ideas, it's like there wasn't enough paper in the world for her to write it all down—oh! That reminds me. We went by her apartment, we found a box of notebooks under her bed with Jamie's name on it. It's still in the car, I completely forgot."

"A box full of her stories? Oh, he'll love that, we can give it to him tomorrow," Lorelei said. "Strange that she had his name on it already though…"

"I wonder if she knew," Dot frowned.

There were still so many questions.

* * *

"Jack? Jack are you home?" came Tooth's gentle voice from the other side of the cabin door, crystal clear despite the rough winds outside.

She knocked and pushed the door open slowly, watching him cautiously as she entered. Jack was lying on the mattress, bags under his eyes that were fixed on the ceiling. Baby Tooth flitted around the cabin curiously and Jack barely glanced their way in acknowledgment.

Tooth set a canvas bag down near the mattress. "These are Rowan's things from the Pole, North thought you'd want them," she said.

"Thanks," Jack said, remembering that Rowan had said that he could have the red notebook. It still didn't feel right to just be allowed to look through it without permission now, just because she was gone.

"Thought I'd check on you. Sandy says you're not sleeping," Tooth said, taking a seat at the foot of the mattress.

"Bad dreams," Jack shrugged. Bad dreams when he was asleep, depressing thoughts when he was awake, Jack Frost could not win. Surely Tooth would pick up on this soon enough and leave.

No one liked to be around someone  _this_  sad, no matter how great a friend. Jack was sure of it.

Besides, he still didn't know how to be sad around other people.

"Pitch Black bad dreams, or…?" Tooth asked.

"No. Reminders that my girlfriend's dead bad dreams," Jack elaborated. "I think the worst ones are when we're happy and then I wake up and she's not there."

"I'm sorry, Jack," Tooth said. Jack shrugged again.

What did you say when people said they were sorry that you were sad? That they were sorry that someone you cared about was gone?

Were you supposed to thank them for their pity?

It didn't feel right.

"Clio's been, uh, keeping tabs on media. I guess Rowan's funeral is coming up. Monday, isn't it?" Tooth said, still watching Jack, though he hadn't made eye contact with her since she entered.

Baby Tooth landed on his stomach, climbing into his pocket and popping out again, offering him a smile. He forced one in return, gently brushing the feathers on her head with his fingertips.

"Yeah, I read that," Jack replied. He had the paper with her obituary set aside, unsure if he should keep it. It was just another reminder that she was gone.

"Are you going?" asked Tooth.

"I don't know," he said. "Probably not."

"Why not?"

"I don't know how welcome Jack Frost would be at the funeral of someone that froze to death," Jack sighed. "Jamie hates me now, and… it'll be one big reminder that she's gone."

Tooth frowned. "Jack, it isn't your fault she's dead. And Jamie… Jamie is grieving; he'll come around. Maybe going to the funeral will give you some closure, give you a chance to say goodbye."

Goodbye.

That felt so weird and permanent.

What happened after that?

What if the pictures he had, the newspaper articles, the memories, weren't enough? What if he started to forget?

He couldn't help but think of Thalia's story of the girl she had loved in her past life and the details she had forgotten.

If Rowan stayed dead, was he doomed to do the same?

"I don't know. I don't like the idea of saying goodbye," Jack admitted.

"I know. But you should really think about going. Really consider, are you going to regret going more than you might regret not going? I don't want you to skip out on it and then wish you had gone," said Tooth.

Jack just shook his head. "I don't know," he said again.

"Well, think about it. And if you need any of us to go with you—" Tooth started.

"If I go, I need to do it alone," Jack said immediately.

"I understand," Tooth said.

* * *

A yeti set a large tray on the table between Calliope and North. The tray was covered in various cookies, a large tea set, and a jug of milk. The Muse eyed the tray with wide eyes, not expecting quite so much.

The yeti babbled to her, gesturing to the tea set. "Yes, please," Calliope said, watching as the yeti poured her a cup and added just the right amount of sugar. He gently set the cup down before her, gently perched upon a saucer.

North helped himself to a glass of milk and a cookie as the yeti left the room.

"So, you think we need to work on public relations," North said, brushing crumbs from his beard.

"We need to start now, before Pitch spreads those plans around, or before he does something with them himself. Our alliance alone isn't going to cut it, we need to make sure we have other powerful beings on our side when this inevitably blows up in our face," Calliope said.

"The Guardians have always been in decent standings with most of the immortal community," North pointed out.

"I'm not sure things are going to stay that way if details of what happened get out. We created a dangerous, magical  _bomb_. We killed almost all of the Shadow People in existence. It won't matter that they were a threat; we are going to be scrutinized for almost making an entire group of immortal beings extinct to the point that they will be recuperating for at least a century if not more. We caused some pretty impressive damage to a mortal town and a mortal girl died in the process. If this all comes back to us, we are going to make  _so many_  enemies," Calliope said.

North nodded, taking another cookie from the tray. "That is all quite true. So how do we get others on our side considering all of that?"

"We have to tell our side of the story with an emphasis on the threat the Shadow People posed, the danger to the world's children, and the fact that our end goal was and always will be the greater good of this world," Calliope said. "We need to play up sympathy for our cause because if someone starts making these bombs we are going to need help stopping them."

"And if we cannot get others to help?" North asked. "Others may decide that this was our mess we got into, it is our mess to get out of."

"We have to at least try," Calliope said. "And we have to be strategic when we do."

"Who do you have in mind?" North asked.

"Ares and Athena are the obvious choices but I don't think we can get both of them on our side," Calliope sighed. "They're like Apollo and Artemis, their rivalry runs deep."

"I assume you want Athena?" North asked.

"Ares and I have history. Unfortunately, things ended poorly between he and I, and he will hold that against me. Athena and the Muses have  _generally_  had a decent relationship but we have to be careful who we send to speak to her. We can't send Erato," Calliope said, shaking her head at the thought.

"Erato can be… quite persuasive, though," North said with a shrug.

"They've never seen eye-to-eye. I don't understand it, Erato is usually very respectful of those that choose not to have sex but things with her and Athena have always been tense and I know that's at least part of it," Calliope said. "The fact that Thalia's involved with Arachne won't help our case either, nor the fact that the rest of us are even friends with her. Athena  _hates_  Arachne. I suppose I'll send Clio and Urania, she loves them. Tooth, too, if she's not too busy."

"I am sure Tooth would love to speak with Athena," North nodded. "I might be able to speak with Ares…"

"It's worth a shot, I suppose," Calliope said.

"You had mentioned Artemis earlier, as well."

"Apollo will be furious if we ask for her help, it's not worth it," Calliope said, shaking her head. "I have a great respect for Artemis but… I have to operate under Apollo's rule."

North nodded. "Are there others you had in mind?"

"Bunny and Terpsichore are going to work on Australia and Africa, they have the strongest ties there. Tooth said she'd let me know who we can speak to in Asia. I'm hoping to find some beings in the Americas that don't hate Jack that maybe he can speak with. Melpomene and Erato are actually great to speak with certain, darker beings that might be on the fence…" Calliope said, racking though her mind. She needed to get a notebook, write everything down.

And then not leave that notebook somewhere it could be stolen by a boogie man.

"We will figure this out. We have made it this far," North said, taking a cookie from the stack and handing it to Calliope. She smiled slightly, taking it.

* * *

There were murmurs outside the room. Rowan's parents were speaking with a few of her friends, the ones in the band. Jack recognized the fast-talking girl with the red in her hair, as well as her boyfriend, but the other three he hadn't seen before.

They were discussing music, song choice, and schedules. Jack had only overheard part of the conversation as he crept by them, unseen.

Today was not the funeral, but rather, the viewing. A chance to bid the body goodbye before the actual funeral.

Jack hadn't been to one of these before. He hadn't even attended the impromptu memorial for Sandy the previous year.

So, he wasn't so sure what to expect when he crept inside the room with the coffin, Shirley and Adam standing nearby. Adam set down a bouquet of roses with some others and did the sign of the cross. Shirley stood rigid, arms crossed and biting her lips.

"This is surreal," she said. Jack lingered back near the door, feeling like he was intruding.

"I know. Anything, uh, you want to tell her?" Adam said, setting an arm around Shirley's shoulders.

"She can't hear me now, unless her spirit or whatever is lingering around here and I don't know if I believe in that or not," Shirley mumbled.

"This stuff is always more for the living," Adam said. "It might help."

"It just feels weird, like, let's dress her up and put her on display and talk to her and all of this because it'll make  _us_  feel better," Shirley said, shaking her head. "But okay, Rowan, if you're lurking around here, if your spirit can hear me or something… We were supposed to graduate together and be each other's maid of honor. We were supposed to do dumb shit we couldn't tell our kids about. I'm sad that you won't be around for any of that. I'm sad I won't get to talk to you in class or text you about stupid things when I'm bored. I know we only met a few years ago but you were the best friend I've ever had. I'm really, really going to miss you. And um… that's all, I guess. Goodbye, Rowan."

Shirley sniffled, digging through her pockets for a tissue. Adam offered her a sympathetic look, squeezing her shoulder.

"Let's go," he said to her softly. She nodded, allowing herself to be led out the door by the boy.

They closed the door behind them with a click, leaving Jack alone in the room with the open casket. Swallowing, Jack took a few cautious steps forward, unsure what to expect or just how he would feel when he saw what was inside.

She looked less blue now than she had when he last saw her. Make-up had been carefully applied to downplay the fact that there was no life in this body.

But it was painfully clear that she was dead.

He often heard people speak about wakes, saying that the dead looked peaceful, that they looked as though they were sleeping. But this wasn't the way Rowan slept. She slept on her side, or sometimes her stomach, with her hair fanned out across the pillow.

She was too rigid, too carefully posed.

It didn't make him feel peace, it made him feel uncomfortable.

She wore the dress she had worn to the ball, presumably because it was the last piece of clothing her parents saw her working so diligently on. As far as they were concerned, she had never had a chance to wear it.

He thought back to that night, to helping her put the dress on and later on helping to take it off. He wanted to smile at the memory, but it was bitter with the fact that she was gone and they wouldn't be having a night like that again.

Her hair was gently curled, with a few strands braided, just as Rowan used to do on her own as a nervous habit.

Her hands, pale and rigid, were folded over a book resting on her stomach:  _Peter and Wendy_  by J.M. Barrie. The book was well taken care of, but signs of wear could be seen in the spine from no doubt having been read multiple times.

"I don't know what to say," he said, blinking back tears again.

He felt like there was so much  _to_  say, but couldn't think of the words.

He propped his staff on the ground, leaning his weight against it and watching her as though he would find the words somewhere in that coffin with her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. I'm sorry that so much went wrong and that I couldn't protect you. There's so much that I want to do over," Jack said, deciding that was as good a place as any to start. "I knew you were going to die at some point, but I didn't like to think about it. I didn't like to think about what we had ending. I always figured we would have more time than this."

He sighed and briefly glanced toward the door. He wondered how long he had before another friend or family member showed up. Would the press try to get in?

"I had gotten used to being alone. Then I joined the Guardians, and that was great. Then I found you, and falling for you was the most nerve-wracking, fun thing I've done in a long time. A few weeks with you have completely ruined me, Sawyer," he said. "Everyone warned me this was a bad idea, but you and I had fun. In the middle of everything else, we had fun. And even though this hurts so much, I would do it all over again."

He kept watching her, unsettled by the lack of movement.

"I just wish you were still here. I wish I could have done something different to keep you around. You are—…  _were_ , you were too young. You should have lived long enough to forget all about me. I'm really going to miss you."

He breathed deep, trying to calm down.

Scanning her form again, his frown deepened as he realized something was missing. The necklace he had given her for Christmas was absent, her neck completely bare.

He had hoped that they would bury her with it. That way something that he had given her would always be with her.

Had they gotten rid of it? Perhaps they had seen it as a trinket from a boy that was made up, a boy that might have been (or rather, might as well have been) responsible for Rowan's death and wanted nothing to do with it. Perhaps it was evidence now.

He plucked a rose from one of the bouquets, icing it over with his touch before setting it in the coffin with her. He gently moved her cold, stiff fingers until the rose was held securely between her hand and the book.

"I love you," he said. "I'm never going to forget you. And if you're back in a year, I'll be here. And if not… hopefully, North knows what he's talking about and I'll see you again at some point anyway."

He eyed the book again, eyed her wrist where he knew the two stars were tattooed.

"If I don't see you in a year… meet me second to the right. See if we can't find Neverland."

He was about to clasp her hand again when he heard the door open and an elderly woman walked in, grasping Jamie's hand in hers. Jack stepped aside, watching Jamie hopefully. The boy didn't acknowledge him.

He must still be invisible.

Somehow it stung more than when he hadn't been seen in the first place.

"Are you sure you want to see her, Jamie?" said the woman.

"Yes, Grandma," Jamie nodded as they approached the casket.

"Just remember, you can leave any time you want," she said with a warm smile.

"Do you really think she can hear us?"

"Certainly. I can feel lots of spirits around here."

The superstitious grandmother. Jack remembered Rowan mentioning her several times.

His time with Rowan was over.

As Jamie and his grandmother peered down at her lifeless form, Jack slipped out the door, barely hearing the woman comment on the frozen rose as he left.


	64. Lower The Curtain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started posting this story almost two years ago, and started writing it a while before that. It had been a while since I had last really committed myself to a fanfiction and I was nervous and excited and all sorts of emotions when it came to posting it. It didn't get a lot of attention at first, but soon enough I started getting reviews and comments and it made me so happy reading your thoughts every time.
> 
> I went through some hard times writing this. Graduation was a stressful time, my best friend and I had a huge falling out, trying and failing to find a day job. I got really depressed, really anxious, and there were times I couldn't bring myself to draw, but I kept writing and working on this, even if my updates came a little less frequently during those times. I always had this story. It might seem silly, but it gave me some kind of purpose.
> 
> Which is why it's really sad for me to say that after almost two years and over sixty chapters, this is the last chapter of Something Quite Peculiar.
> 
> I know that some of you are going to finish this chapter and think, but Tera! I still have so many questions! How can this be the end?
> 
> It's the end of Something Quite Peculiar, but it's not the end of this. So, please, when you're done here (and after you leave me a comment since HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER!), check out chapter one of Fly Me Away, which is the sequel (surprise!).

_Jack had gotten to a place where he had truly believed that he was the only one in the alliance that really cared about Rowan. That line of thinking was starting to feel very, very silly._

* * *

**Chapter Sixty-Four: Lower The Curtain**

* * *

He carefully buttoned the dress shirt, absentmindedly pacing the small cabin as he went, eyes fixed on his fingers. There were slight wrinkles in the shirt, but he somehow didn't think anyone was going to mind much.

Tuck the shirt in; grab the waistcoat from the floor. More buttons.

Frost covered the edges as he went. Next was the coat.

Jack didn't expect to have to wear this charcoal gray suit that Arachne had made for him again, especially not so soon.

He picked up the necktie, still undone from the last time it had been removed. He still didn't know how to tie it.

A small, sad smile pulled at his lips as he thought of Rowan twisting the tie around her own neck, wearing the slip she planned to wear under her dress for the ball.

He closed his eyes briefly, imagining the way her fingers brushed against his neck as she slid the tie into place and adjusted his collar.

No one was going to see him wearing this suit. No one was going to be able to judge him for not getting dressed up for a funeral. He could easily wear his usual hoodie and torn pants.

But Rowan had liked the suit, and said as much several times.

So, he would wear it for her.

Minus the shoes, minus the tie that he didn't have a clue how to tie.

Surely she could forgive that.

Setting the tie aside and straightening his jacket, Jack grabbed for his staff before leaving the cabin, a soft wind catching him and sending him airborne.

He had finally calmed down to the point that the snow wasn't falling as violently as it had been. It was gentle now, calm, setting a pretty but vaguely melancholy scene.

The parking lot at the funeral home was full, leaving mourners to park on the streets and other nearby lots (much to their respective business owner's irritation, no doubt). Were they all people that Rowan had touched personally in her life, or were there curious spectators among the crowd?

Knowing it would be suspicious if he opened the door, Jack lurked close behind a young man with two lip piercings and black-dyed hair as he entered the building.

The front room was decorated with Rowan's artwork, meticulously framed and arranged on easels. It was impressive, really, how quickly they had gotten all of this together. He wondered if she had already had her work framed.

His eyes fell on the Jack Frost character sheet. That one he knew had already been framed in preparation for the exhibition at her school.

Nearby, they had displayed the certificate she had received for the piece. An honorable mention for the Illustration department.

That sad smile crept back to his face as he remembered telling her that the award was at least half his.

"Luke, I'm surprised to see you here," came Bill's voice from a few paces away. Jack glanced over to see the boy he had followed in standing awkwardly before Rowan's parents.

"Yeah… well, I mean… I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, and I know I was an idiot in high school, but I mean… I really am sorry to hear about this. She was special, and I guess I always thought there would be some opportunity to make things okay, but… here we are. I won't make any trouble," Luke replied.

"No, you won't," Bill said, glaring daggers at the boy.

"Be nice," Dot whispered to him before turning her attention to Luke. "Thank you for coming."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Luke said again.

"Thank you," Dot nodded. The boy walked inside to take a seat.

"That's Danny and Luke, I wonder if  _Jack_  will be joining us," Bill mumbled.

"I don't want to think about that today," Dot said, sounding exhausted. Jack's heart sank. As far as they knew, the Jack that Rowan had been seeing either didn't exist at all, or was all a cover created by someone that had been involved in her death.

And really, were those assumptions wrong?

Jack snuck a program from the table, tucking it in to his jacket before creeping into the room where the service would be held. The coffin was displayed at the front of the room, closed now and draped in roses.

Many of the seats were already filled. He could see Jamie and Sophie sitting with their grandmother at the front. Lorelei stood nearby, speaking to a man that resembled Bill, though had far more gray hairs. His brother, Tom?

Instruments were set up to the side of the coffin. They were out of the way but could easily be retrieved for their part in the service later.

A projector was set up, displaying a slideshow of photos. Rowan smiling with friends, Rowan working on a drawing intently, Rowan with pink hair in high school, Rowan at Christmas when she was little, Rowan smiling with braces, Rowan at an art show.

It was hitting him, as all these strangers took their seats, exchanging memories, that Jack truly hadn't known Rowan for long. It had felt like ages, certainly, but she had a whole life before he and other immortals came barging in.

He couldn't help but wonder, yet again, if she would have been better off without him.

He leaned against the back wall, watching the slide show intently. A ten-year-old Rowan carefully holding a newborn baby, who he could only assume was Jamie.

A picture from a Halloween around the same age. Fairy wings, glitter, a skirt styled to look as though it were made of leaves. Tinker Bell.

"Over here," someone said softly. Jack was surprised he had heard it at all over the murmurs throughout the room. It was a voice he recognized, however, and his eyes were drawn to the side.

Polyhymnia, dressed in black, mortal clothing, was taking a seat in the back corner of the room.

She was not alone.

Calliope sat beside her, donning a black, sort of business-looking suit. Next were Clio, Terpsichore, and a very ill-looking Euterpe. Euterpe stumbled before taking her seat; Jack could somewhat hear Terpsichore hiss something to her about wearing heels when her depth perception was still bad.

Erato, her hair straightened and missing her usual roses (likely to avoid drawing attention), gently pat Euterpe's shoulder. Beside her was Thalia, scratching at the cast still on her wrist.

The only Muses missing were Urania and Melpomene. This was the most low-key he had ever seen these flashy women. They blended in with the crowd well, staying out of everyone's way and flipping through their programs. They were fully visible to the mortals around them, he was sure, or they wouldn't bother with the hushed tones and disguises.

Why were they here?

Thalia glanced his way and mumbled something to the others before standing up and walking over to where he stood.

So much for doing this by himself.

"Hello, Jack," Thalia whispered, trying to be discreet.

"What are you doing here?" he said, sounding more stern and irritated than he intended.

"I know that you must think this is too little too late. We weren't very welcoming to Rowan, and actively tried not to get close," Thalia said, still speaking in hushed tones. "The thing is… we do feel badly about that. Say what you want, but she  _was_  our sister, and we want to pay our respects."

"Well, seven of you do," Jack mumbled.

"Melpomene doesn't like funerals and she feels really guilty about this, believe it or not. And Urania hates crowds, they give her anxiety," Thalia explained. "So, it's just us. And I know you probably wanted to do this alone, so we're going to stay in our corner, you can stay in yours. We won't bother you; we won't look at you. Is that all right? Or would you rather we left?"

The way Thalia was looking at him made his stomach turn. Somehow he knew if he asked, they  _would_  leave.

What right did he have to kick them out?

Rowan's parents probably wouldn't want him there if they knew he was around. Why did he have any more of a right to stay than they did?

He wanted to say that Rowan wouldn't have wanted them there. But he remembered the way she rushed after them at the ball.

He remembered Terpsichore trying to teach Rowan and him to dance.

He remembered Thalia telling them her and Melpomene's story.

Polyhymnia easing Rowan's mind at the ball; Erato offering her kind words and unwanted relationship advice.

Euterpe and Terpsichore gossiping with them all, embracing Rowan and being so kind.

Calliope making sure that their grand plan was adjusted so that Rowan would be able to seek help for her flashbacks once all was said and done.

Melpomene searching for Rowan after she showed up at Burgess.

Urania fishing Rowan out of the lake, trying to revive her.

Jack had gotten to a place where he had truly believed that he was the only one in the alliance that really cared about Rowan. That line of thinking was starting to feel very, very silly.

"No, no, stay," Jack said.

"You can sit with us, if you want. Otherwise, like I said, we'll stay out of your way," Thalia said.

"I'm, um, I'm gonna stay back here," he said. Thalia nodded and returned back to her seat with the others.

"Thank you all for coming," Lorelei said, standing at the podium up front, a hush falling over the room as she spoke. She explained that she would be speaking on behalf of the Sawyer family, and a quick glance toward Bill and Dot showed exactly why that was. Dot was already dabbing at her eyes again, fighting sobs.

The eulogy wasn't a long one, but it covered everything it was supposed to. Rowan was a happy child with a big imagination. She wrote and illustrated her own stories as soon as she could hold a crayon.

She was a good student. A great student, even. Graduated high school with honors and was on course to do the same in college.

She was kind, but stubborn. She stood up for herself and was loyal to those that earned it.

She inspired everyone around her.

Once again, Jack felt himself cringing at all the past tense.

When Lorelei finished speaking, Jamie took her place at the podium, barely able to see over the edge. He had the notebook that Rowan had begun transcribing her pirate story into.

Jamie introduced himself first, then began reading the story aloud.

The slideshow changed to sketches of characters from the story that she had been working on in her sketchbook. Some of the sketches he had seen before, sneak peeks he had gotten when he asked.

Others he hadn't seen. Some were very rough and he wondered if Rowan would have wanted them to be seen. Perhaps if she were still alive she would be cringing at a room full of people seeing the unfinished work.

Perhaps somewhere, in some afterlife, she  _was_  cringing.

A sketch of Jack staring intently out a window appeared in the slide show. He remembered the night she had drawn that. It was that new moon back in December, right after they had gotten together. He had to stay on guard for Shadow People all night and she had killed some time sketching before going to sleep.

Understandably, it had been mistaken as a sketch of the pirate character she had based on him.

Jamie finished reading what had been written and stepped down from the podium to polite applause.

Lorelei returned to her place, speaking a bit about how creative people tended to surround themselves with other creative people. Storytellers understood other storytellers. Rowan was not a musician but, like many, loved the craft and the way it could be used to tell stories.

Lorelei introduced Rowan's friends from the band and returned to her seat as they approached the front.

Nicolette, the vocalist with the red and black hair pulled her microphone over from the side. She spoke a moment as her band mates made last-minute adjustments to their instruments, saying that they hoped to go a different route than the usual sad memorial songs and instead hoped to perform a few things that Rowan had enjoyed listening to. They were to perform three songs total.

The songs they chose were songs he remembered playing on her car stereo during those long drives between her apartment and her parents' house. Her eyes would light up, she would turn the dial that controlled the volume, and immediately begin singing along after warning him not to make fun of her.

It had been obvious that Rowan hadn't had any singing training (unlike Nicolette, who was hitting every note, tugging on every heartstring in the room with her voice) but that wasn't what had been fun about watching that. She was just having fun, as though in that moment her only problem was that the song was going to end soon.

When he knew the song, he would sing along with her.

There had been a point where she had prodded at him until he sang along to Frank Sinatra for her.

They had both sang dramatically when a Bing Crosby song (her grandparents' song, she had explained) came on, serenading each other through laughter.

He blinked back tears again, realizing they would never go for a drive with the stereo blasting again.

The band ended with an eerie, haunting rendition of  _Under The Milky Way_ , which he remembered playing whenever Rowan's phone would ring.

Once the song was through, and after applause from the sniffling audience, the band began putting their instruments away as Lorelei approached the podium again. She introduced Rowan's high school art teacher who spoke fondly and began to cry at the podium halfway through.

Bill spoke for a short period, clearly speaking quickly in an attempt to leave before he lost his composure. He thanked the community for their support in this difficult time, and mentioned the people that had reached out to them nation-wide hoping to help with funeral costs.

Apparently the amount had been excessive. He announced that he and Dot hoped to use the leftover money, as well as some of their own, to start a scholarship in Rowan's name. It would be for students hoping to pursue illustration.

"The Rowan Sawyer Memorial Scholarship" just felt strange to consider. "The Rowan Sawyer Memorial-"  _Anything_  felt strange to consider.

Lorelei spoke again, bringing the service to its close.

There were six pallbearers, only a few that Jack recognized. One was the man he had earlier assumed to be her uncle. The room was quiet as all eyes watched the casket be carried out to where a hearse was no doubt waiting.

All that was left was the burial and reception. Jack had little interest in lurking around the reception, but he wanted to be there when they put her in the ground.

Avoiding glancing toward the Muses, he headed outside, ready to follow the hearse wherever it might go.

* * *

Her hair was a bluish black like the clearest night sky, with reflections of what had to be the most beautiful stars dancing in their strands. Her hair was long and flowing, both too beautiful to touch and so tempting to stroke.

Her eyes were a strange silver, framed by soft lashes. They were focused and precise, never once leaving the arrowheads she was carefully sharpening as she sat comfortably on a stump in a lush clearing.

She didn't see Cupid coming; she heard him.

"Hello, Eros," she said. "Do you have a report for me?"

"You just jump right into it, don't you? It's never 'Hello, Eros, how are you?' or 'Eros! It's good to see you, how is your mother doing?' It's always 'Eros! Report!'" Cupid said, taking a seat on the ground beside her, gently rubbing at his knee.

The woman stopped what she was doing only long enough to roll her eyes and sigh. "Hello, Eros, how are you?"

"Well, my legs are killing me ever since I broke my wing and had to start walking more. Oh, and then there's the  _crippling guilt_  over everything else," he said.

"Now, now, don't feel guilty, you've done so much good," the woman said. Cupid just stared at her incredulously for a moment.

"First of all, if my mother or my aunts knew that I was communicating with you behind  _their_  backs, much less  _Apollo's—"_  Cupid started.

"The power my brother has over everyone is completely absurd and you know it," the woman replied. "That's why you're here, isn't it? That's why you've been listening to me and following  _my_  orders, isn't it?"

"I wasn't expecting to have to look everyone in the eye and lie to them. I can't even stand being around Toothiana anymore, she trusts me again and I'm so…  _ashamed,"_  Cupid mumbled, focusing his attention on his knee again.

"You're not lying," the woman shrugged. "You said that you wanted to keep your mother and her sisters safe, and that's true. You just… kept them in the dark about a few things."

Cupid sighed. "No one was supposed to  _die,_  Artemis."

Artemis set her arrowheads aside, finally giving Cupid her full attention. "No. Especially not a Muse. It is incredibly unfortunate that had to happen, but it is  _not_  our fault."

"We're the reason she was attacked the last new moon!" Cupid said. "You leaked information  _I gave you_  to the Shadow People to use against Jack and Rowan. Then you just so  _happen_  to suggest I go to France that night so I can show up and save everything."

"Why are you feeling guilty about  _that?_  You didn't even know I leaked the information until after the fact. All your heroic deeds that night were  _genuine_ ," Artemis said. "Yes, things got out of hand, but the girl survived and it solidified your place in the alliance so we could keep tabs on things. Not to mention, I had you smudge the room, I sent you with healing crystals to put in the room—"

"And if anyone had found out that  _I_  put them there we could have been caught right then," Cupid said.

"You're being paranoid," Artemis said.

"One of the crystals was amethyst, that's  _your_  crystal," Cupid said.

"And they still don't believe I had anything to do with it," said Artemis.

"That's all beside the point. Maybe if she hadn't been attacked during the new moon, she wouldn't have died on the full moon. Maybe she would have had the strength to swim to the surface before she drowned," Cupid said.

"And maybe she would have been attacked somewhere else and died some other way," said Artemis, setting a hand to Cupid's shoulder. "I didn't want her to die either. But what's done is done. We must focus on the other Muses."

"They don't want your help," Cupid said, shaking his head. "Even after the new moon, they didn't think to ask for your help."

"They're still too afraid of Apollo," Artemis practically growled, rising to her feet. "Oh, wise and mighty Apollo! Powerful, strong Apollo, who raises the dead when the story has entertained him—ha!"

"I mean, that's… what happens, isn't it?" Cupid said gently.

Artemis smiled softly, shaking her head. "Not exactly. Apollo isn't the one that judges whether the Mortal Muse has left a great enough legacy. The  _mortals_  are. If they don't keep her story alive in the year it takes, he  _can't_  bring her back, whether he wants to or not."

"That's… why Yelena didn't come back, because he gets his powers from mortals and basically everyone that mourned her and told her story was immortal," Cupid said. Artemis nodded. "He always made it out like he had all the power and control."

"He would never admit that the magic in mortal belief dictates what he can and cannot do with his precious Muses. He hasn't even told them that  _I'm_  the one that picks the Mortal Muse! They still think it's random. Anything to keep them bound to him," Artemis said. "I never said anything because I didn't want him to think I talked them into anything… I wanted them to come to me on their own,  _despite_  all he's done to keep them away from me. That would be the sweetest way to get under his skin."

"Which is why you wanted me to join the alliance and did all that with the new moon, you wanted them to be afraid enough to come to you instead of Apollo," Cupid said.

"Exactly.  _But,_  things are changing, Eros. Tell me, what does Calliope plan to do now that the plans for the bomb have gone missing?" Artemis asked.

"Solidify more alliances before shit hits the fan, basically," said Cupid. "She's going to target Athena, I know that."

Artemis lit up. "Dear Athena? Make this easier for me, Calliope, make it  _easier!_  Times are changing, Eros, and you mark my words, you and the Muses will be out from under my brother's rule soon enough."

"What are you going to do, talk to Athena first?"

"That and more. And, while we're at it, how are the Guardians and Tsar Lunar?"

"They're all as loyal to him as ever," Cupid shrugged.

"We'll see about that," Artemis said, glancing up at the moon, shining brightly in the sky between leaves in the trees surrounding them. "The moon was mine first, after all."

* * *

There were two cemeteries in Burgess. The old one had cracked headstones and was covered in weeds. They buried Rowan in the new cemetery, the one that was tended to far more frequently.

Her tombstone had her name, her date of birth, her date of death, and proclaimed her a "beloved daughter."

Below this information read, "second star to the right and straight on till morning." Two stars were etched in the top right corner of the stone, mimicking the tattoo on her wrist.

Jack watched from the high branch of a tree in the distance, his stomach feeling hollow and his heart feeling heavy. The snow still fell gently, steadily, not once letting up as those that came to see the burial shivered in their coats.

There wasn't much left to see; in fact, several people had left already.

Jack was beginning to wonder if he, too, should leave before a black bird landed on a sturdy branch near him. A moment later, in a burst of light, the bird transformed, and Calliope was balancing awkwardly on the branch.

Jack cocked a brow, knowing full well that she could communicate fine as a bird, so why change and have to deal with the balancing act?

"Right, well, this is uncomfortable," she mumbled, shifting slightly before straightening the dark suit she still wore from the funeral. The other Muses were nowhere to be seen. She turned her attention back to Jack. "I wanted to speak with you. I know this is probably a bad time…"

"Do you, uh, want to head to the ground?" Jack asked, wincing as Calliope nearly lost her balance. The Muse nodded, turning back into a bird almost immediately. Jack carefully hovered to the ground as the black bird led the way, touching down just as Calliope returned to her usual form.

"I don't like having serious talks as a bird," she explained.

Jack sighed. He wasn't really up for  _any_  conversation right now, much less a serious one. "What do we have to talk about?"

"I, um, I wanted to apologize," Calliope said.

Jack eyed her skeptically. "For what?"

"I know that I'm not easy to work with," she said. "I know that I'm not easy to get along with. I know that I'm not always nice. I act the way I do because I feel as though it's all on me to keep my sisters safe. I will do  _anything_  to keep them safe. Getting into this whole thing, I thought you were a lazy, worthless kid. I was wrong."

Jack stared at the woman, mouth agape.

Did she really just admit to being  _wrong?_

"You've proven over and over again that you're more than capable, and I am sorry that I didn't treat you that way, I truly am," Calliope said sincerely.

"Um, well," Jack said, unsure where to start. What a bizarre day. "I wasn't exactly easy to get along with either. I think I called you a 'frigid bitch' at  _least_  once."

"I think it's safe to say we were both feeding off each others negativity, don't you?" Calliope said. Jack nodded. "I know I'm not your favorite person, and honestly, you're not really mine either. But we're supposed to be on the same team."

"Right," Jack said.

"I'll try harder if you will. We're going to be seeing a lot more of each other, considering what Pitch did," she said.

Jack took a deep breath. Spending even more time with the Muses? Rowan was a big part of what had made that tolerable lately.

But he supposed he didn't have a choice. Calliope was right; they were on the same team. There was no need to make this harder.

"I guess I can try to get along with you. You can be almost all right  _sometimes_ ," Jack said, thinking back to the ball when she drunkenly defended Sandy.

Calliope set out her hand and after little hesitation, he shook it.

"I really am sorry about what happened, by the way. I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love," Calliope said, glancing back toward the grave, briefly. "It was a lovely service."

Jack still didn't know what to say when others expressed sympathy about this. He didn't know what to say about her being able to relate. He simply nodded in acknowledgment.

"I have something for you," she said, pulling an object from her pocket. Jack's eyes widened when he got a good look at it. It was the necklace he'd given Rowan, pristine and sparkling. "I took it off of her before the police came by to get her."

"I was wondering why she wasn't wearing it at the wake," Jack said, taking the necklace with trembling hands, his heart racing. He wasn't sure why seeing this trinket had left him so shaken.

He had thought it was gone forever.

"Why did you take it?" he said, eyes still fixed on the charm.

"Well, you worked so hard on it, it saved her life once, she really seemed to love it," Calliope said. "I just figured, she might want it if she comes back, and you could keep it safe until then."

He looked to Calliope in surprise. "I thought you were sure she wasn't coming back."

Calliope smiled. "Well, it isn't up to me. But, you weren't the only one I misjudged, Frost."

Jack swallowed, blinking back tears again as he tightened his grip on the necklace. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry I didn't give it to you sooner," she said, setting a comforting hand to his shoulder. "You've been making yourself pretty scarce."

"I know," he said, avoiding her gaze now.

They fell into tense silence, neither looking quite at each other, neither sure what to say now.

They weren't magically friends now, after all. He didn't even know how to act around his actual friends right now.

"Well, um, I should probably head out," Calliope said. "Euterpe's still recovering from the full moon, I want to check on her again."

Jack nodded again.

"This year's going to drag, but you'll get through it," Calliope said. In the next moment, she was a bird again, flying away through the snow that was gradually picking up.

Jack watched her go for only a moment before he kicked off the ground, heading back for his cabin. There was nothing left for him in this cemetery now.

Maybe he would visit again at some point, but not now.

Now he needed to leave, to be alone.

The wind howled, as though in pain as the sky grew darker and darker. His grip on the necklace tightened until his knuckles were white, heart still racing and breathing growing heavy.

He stumbled into the cabin, the wind slamming the door shut behind him.

He had thought that today was a better day, that things were getting easier to deal with.

How could a piece of jewelry throw everything off so spectacularly?

He set the necklace down on one of his shelves before pulling off his coat and tossing it toward the box it had been delivered to him in. He tried steadying his breath as he fumbled at the buttons of his waistcoat, eyes catching the Polaroids he had pinned to the wall.

Pictures of her smiling, pictures of her safe and secure in his arms back when he had been stupid enough to think that maybe the way things were going, he could actually protect her.

If he could only change one thing about the full moon,  _one thing_ , this might all be different. He might not be here, coughing through shallow breaths as he fiddled with the buttons on the dress shirt, giving up after a few and just pulling it over his head, throwing it with the jacket and waistcoat. The funeral was over; there was no point in the formal attire anymore.

He pulled at his hair, heart racing, unable to help but think of the times he had tried to calm her breathing by asking her to breathe slowly with him. What he wouldn't give to breathe with her now, to have someone try to calm  _him_  down, to tell  _him_  that everything was going to be all right even if they weren't sure that was true.

No, not someone, not anyone. He wanted Rowan Sawyer to pull herself in close to him and whisper that everything was going to be all right. His skin ached for her contact.

He wanted to clasp that necklace back around her neck, he wanted to hear her breathe, see the breath fog as soon as she came too close to him.

He wanted to hear her laugh.

He wanted to argue over who was more ridiculous.

Jack picked up the necklace again, sparkling in his grasp.

Taking a seat on the mattress, he pulled the canvas bag over from the corner and pulled out that beat-up red notebook. Rowan had forbid him from looking inside without her permission.

But she had said that if she were to die, it was his.

"I don't want to read it, I want you here to tell me I can't because it's your notebook and I'm not allowed to just go through your notes. I don't want your necklace, I want you to wear it," he said, blinking back tears again as he examined the items in question.

He held these once precious possessions of hers close, hoping they would serve as some form of substitute for the girl that once cared for them. He hoped and wished that holding her notebook close would take away that longing to hold  _her._  He was unsurprised, yet still saddened, when he was still left feeling hollow.

"I don't know what to do, Sawyer!" he shouted, finally feeling a tear slip past his eyes, freezing against his cheek. There was a literal ache in his chest. He brushed his fingers against the spine of the notebook, wishing that the answer would be written inside and knowing it wouldn't be.

He coughed again, choking on sobs that had been contained for far too long.

"I don't know if I can do this if getting your necklace back is enough for me to lose it. I  _can't_  do this if I keep dreaming about you just so I can wake up alone," he said. "It's not fair for you to come into my life for a few  _weeks_  and then make me feel more alone than ever when you leave."

He was tired of feeling this miserable. Everyone kept telling him that this would get easier eventually, but getting to "eventually" was draining.

He just needed a  _break_.

Tears blurring his vision, Jack glanced at his shelves, at the bag of dream sand that Sandy had given him for Christmas. The dream sand that guaranteed a dreamless sleep.

That was starting to sound pretty good.

Jack set the notebook aside, unable to bring himself to open it. The tears wouldn't stop now, steadily rolling down his cheeks until they froze partway down.

He took the bag of sand from the shelf before settling back down on the mattress, gently setting the necklace down beside where his head would be.

As he poured the sand into his hand, he thought of her lying in bed beside him, the way he had tried to memorize her face. He closed his eyes, picturing the two beauty marks on the right side of her face, her pointed nose, her big brown eyes.

The way she lit up when she told a story, the lovely way she smiled.

It was all going to haunt him, he just knew it. Even the happy memories hurt too much, his tears still falling.

He had tried so hard for so long not to cry.

He tossed the sand into his face and fell back, hand falling limp beside the necklace as he passed out, a blizzard raging outside.

One night without dreams of the mortal that he had fallen in love with despite every warning.

One night of peace in what was sure to be the longest year of this immortal's life.


End file.
